Light in Oblivion
by theslytherinrose
Summary: As the Wizarding World becomes aware of the Dark Lord's return, Narcissa struggles to understand what it means for her family and their future. Shortly after Lucius's imprisonment, she discovers that she's pregnant, and she begins to hate the one responsible for her separation from her husband and finds herself losing all loyalty she once had for the Dark Lord. (OotP-DH eventually)
1. Alone

**A/N: My plan is for this to span from the end of OotP to the end of DH or possibly a bit beyond that. There will be deviations from canon, as this exists in the same universe as other things I've written here and elsewhere. Therefore, there will be scenes that overlap with "Trouble Is" and other fics I may post in the future, as there are some events that I wanted to tell from both sides. The rating is T for now, and I'm undecided about whether that will change in the future, but we'll see. Reviews are welcomed and greatly appreciated.**

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Chapter One- Alone

" _I'll be home in no time. I won't let him keep me from you._ "

The words repeated in a loop through Narcissa's mind, tormenting her. Lucius had spoken them hours ago, and she'd wanted to believe him. Now, as she sat at her dresser in the dying candlelight, staring at the half-empty glass of wine she'd left there to avoid spilling it while she'd been thoroughly distracted by his kiss, she was beginning to lose hope.

She'd been too frustrated to say anything when he'd apologized for having to leave her. She'd lain still and stared at the ceiling, refusing to let him see how upset she was as he'd kissed her once more and then pulled away to get dressed.

This war was supposed to be over.

It was supposed to have ended fifteen years ago. When the Dark Lord had fallen, Lucius and Narcissa had been able to return to their lives, though not without a bit of difficulty and a lot of political persuasion. Narcissa had never liked lying, but when it was necessary to protect the people she loved, she could do it as easily as slipping on a smile. Of course Lucius had only served the Dark Lord under the influence of the Imperius Curse. Of course the Ministry had nothing to fear.

These lies had ensured that he could remain with her, could remain _safe_ and be around to watch Draco grow. After so long waiting and so many heartbreaking attempts at starting a family, they had finally been blessed with a son, and with the Dark Lord gone, they would be able to raise him together. Lucius had even managed to find work at the Ministry and expand his network of political connections.

Everything should've been _fine._

But it wasn't.

Narcissa had almost convinced herself that her family would continue to live in peace as Draco progressed in his schooling at Hogwarts. At the end of his fourth year, however, the Dark Lord had returned to demand the allegiance of everyone he'd left behind so long ago and make very clear his displeasure with those who had not, in his opinion, tried hard enough to find him. This included Lucius, whose denial of loyalty had not earned him favor. Over the next year, he had worked diligently to earn that favor back, and now, he was once again the Dark Lord's right-hand man.

The mission Lucius had departed on tonight was one Narcissa had known was coming for quite a while. The Dark Lord wanted to obtain a prophecy from the Department of Mysteries, and he needed Harry Potter to retrieve it for him. Lucius was to lead the group of Death Eaters who would be waiting to ensure that Potter did as he was supposed to and that the plan succeeded. Even Narcissa had played a role in it, not that she embraced that knowledge. She tried hard not to think about what might happen to her cousin, now that she'd let slip how close Sirius was with Potter, which she'd heard from the elf Kreacher. Sirius had betrayed the Black family, yes, and Narcissa had yet to forgive him for abandoning her. As children, they'd played together, and when he'd started Hogwarts four years after she had, Narcissa had done her best to make her cousin feel safe and welcome at the school. He'd repaid her by falling in with a group of his fellow Gryffindors who had a particular distaste for anyone in Slytherin, and soon after, he'd chosen these people over his family.

Though she would never have admitted it to anyone but Lucius, Narcissa found she couldn't entirely blame Sirius for wanting a life apart from that offered by the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. If his parents had treated him anything like Narcissa's had treated her and her sisters, perhaps getting away from them had been the only way for Sirius to feel safe. Narcissa had barely endured her own; she'd thought wistfully of leaving home many times in her teenage years, but she'd held on. Then she'd had Lucius to run to, and everything had become exponentially better. He was her light in the darkness, and she was his.

If betraying the trust of the cousin who had betrayed hers would help to keep her husband in good standing with the man who often killed the followers who displeased him, Narcissa hadn't seen herself having much of a choice. She hoped Sirius would forgive her, but he was not her primary concern.

"Where are you?" she muttered, moving the wineglass over a centimeter with her fingertip and watching its contents ripple. Tonight was supposed to have been peaceful. Soon, Draco would be home from school for the summer holidays, and time alone with Lucius would be much more difficult to come by. Tonight, in an effort to take advantage of the time they did still have, Lucius had taken Narcissa to supper at her favorite restaurant, and then they'd returned home, where they'd been for less than an hour when he had received the summons to embark on his latest task.

Narcissa shivered. She was still wearing the dark red corset Lucius had bought her for her birthday in February as well as her undergarments and little else. After the second hour of waiting, she'd pulled on a white satin robe, as the candles hadn't been nearly enough to keep her warm.

" _I won't let him keep me from you._ "

 _Could you ever stop him from doing that?_ she asked Lucius mentally. She knew he meant every promise he made to her, and she appreciated that more than she knew how to express. She'd been lied to and manipulated by everyone from her own parents to people she'd believed were her friends over the years, but not by Lucius. The only lies he told her were ones of omission when he knew she didn't really want to know what he had been doing with the Death Eaters and the occasional, mostly harmless " _I'm fine, really_ " that he knew better than to think she would actually believe and would eventually admit was false, allowing her to assess and treat his injuries. Apart from that, he was always sincere with her. She knew he'd wanted to spend the evening in her arms, and she'd seen in his eyes that he'd been as reluctant to leave as she had been to let him go.

"I should've said something," she breathed now, shaking her head as she watched the candle sitting beside her hairbrush flicker out, darkening the room as only a few were left burning. "It wasn't your fault."

She never let him leave without assuring him that she would be waiting, ready to welcome him home and bombard him with questions about his well-being. She always said " _I love you_ " too many times as he left, wanting to make sure he knew—to make sure he didn't think she blamed him for having to go and that no matter what he did while he was gone, nothing would change. She would love him just the same. This time, she'd said the words, but they'd been so quiet that she wasn't certain if he'd heard them on his way out the door while she'd been fighting hard to keep herself together. Otherwise, she hadn't said a word after his Mark had begun to burn.

 _He knows it's not him I'm angry with. He has to. …Right?_

She'd told him as much hundreds of times, had assured him endlessly that she knew that whatever reasons had motivated him to join the Dark Lord in the first place, it was no longer a matter of choice to serve. Lucius had been happy with the life he'd had while the Dark Lord was gone—with just himself and her and Draco and whatever they chose to make of themselves. Narcissa knew he wouldn't have traded it in for a renewed contract of servitude and the constant threat of danger and death if he'd seen another option.

The familiar roar of flames sounded from downstairs.

Her heart leaping into her throat, Narcissa stood so quickly she knocked her chair to the carpet. She left it lying there and quickly tied the sash of her robe, hurrying out the bedroom door and down the corridor.

"You had me so worried," she called as she descended the steps, nearly tripping over her bare feet in her rush. The Manor was dark apart from a few scattered lanterns still soldiering on, but the moment she caught sight of the figure standing beside the fireplace in the foyer that had gone dormant again after being used for transportation, she recognized that the shape was not her husband's.

"Bella?" Narcissa breathed. Her sister stood staring into the empty fireplace, her dark hair in disarray and her posture tense. "What's happened? Where's Lucius?"

"He's not coming."

Narcissa froze. Her stomach turned sickeningly, and her body went rigid. "What?"

"He failed the Dark Lord." Bellatrix faced her sister at last, her lips set in a thin line. "He should've let me attack them, and if he had—"

" _What happened?_ " Narcissa demanded, taking a step toward Bellatrix with fire in her eyes.

"He got himself arrested!" cried Bellatrix. "Along with the rest of them!"

A wave of conflicted emotions crashed hard over Narcissa, nearly knocking her to the marble floor. _Arrested._ For years, she'd dreaded hearing this. She'd been plagued by nightmares in which she awaited Lucius's return only to have Aurors show up at the door to inform her that they'd finally realized where his loyalty lay. The thought of Lucius in prison, in _Azkaban_ , surrounded by dementors… it was enough to crush the air from Narcissa's lungs. She reached out for the nearest chair—the high-backed red one that was her husband's favorite—and gripped it tight to keep herself steady.

She'd always known this was a very real possibility. The thought had always lingered at the edge of her mind each time he'd walked out the door to do something for the Dark Lord, but somehow, she had always managed to keep herself from accepting it. Lucius would not allow himself to be captured, she'd told herself. Of course not.

Now that he had, she was torn between devastation and overwhelming, all-consuming relief. When Bellatrix had said he wasn't coming, arrest had not been the first thought to flit through Narcissa's mind. For a moment, she had been possessed by a terror unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. She had feared for Lucius's life on more occasions than she could count, but each of these times, he'd been the one to return to her. She'd seen that he was all right—often injured, but always in one piece—and her mind had been eased. This time, the wrong person had come home, and the words Bellatrix had used seemed to have been chosen specifically to give Narcissa the wrong impression.

Narcissa let out a long sigh, her hands tightening on the back of the chair as she stared at her sister. "Why are you here, Bella?"

"Someone needed to tell you." Bellatrix shrugged. "The Ministry is keeping them all in custody until the senten—"

"I mean, _why are you here and the rest are in custody?_ " Narcissa pressed. She seldom raised her voice to Bellatrix, but her patience was wearing thin, her chest heaving as she fought to keep the words from coming out in a scream. " _Why are you here while my husband isn't?_ "

"The Dark Lord saved me." Bellatrix's face was as haughty as it had ever been, but Narcissa thought she detected the edge of hurt in her sister's eyes at the question. "Lucius split us into groups and everything went all to hell, and after I killed Sirius, I followed—"

"After you _what_?" Narcissa felt as though she had been doused in cold water. There was no way she had heard that correctly. She knew her sister placed no value on the lives of most other people, but surely Bellatrix had her limits. Killing a family member was cold even for her.

The elder sister shrugged, her expression impassive. "Figured Dumbledore wouldn't like that, and it certainly got a rise out of that half-blood Potter."

"You… you killed our cousin." Narcissa didn't bother phrasing the words as a question. She realized she had been foolish to doubt Bellatrix capable of something like this. Of course she had done it. It was, she reasoned, more shocking that she hadn't done it sooner.

 _Well, now Sirius can't forgive me._

"Our _traitor_ of a cousin, let me remind you." Bellatrix stepped forward and reached for Narcissa's shoulder, and the blond witch shrugged out of her sister's grip with an unconcealed shudder. "And after I did, I tried to draw Potter away from his little friends and get him alone, and the Dark Lord arrived."

"And where was Lucius?"

"With the rest of them, fighting Dumbledore and his people."

"And you didn't go back? You didn't even _try_?"

"I didn't have the chance, Cissy!" Bellatrix threw up her hands. "The Dark Lord took me with him when he left! You think I stuck around to see them all get arrested? I only know what happened because we've a few connections in Fudge's office still and they reported to our master after it was all over."

" _Your_ master," snarled Narcissa.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "Now isn't the time for you to disrespect him, Cissy. He's very unhappy."

"Let him come and find me, then, and we'll see which of us is unhappier." In theory, Narcissa knew speaking of the Dark Lord like this to Bellatrix was probably one of the worst ideas she'd had in recent memory, but she didn't care. The man had once again found a way to tear her life apart, just when she'd almost believed things would be all right.

"I'm going to pretend," said Bellatrix slowly, "that I'm not hearing any of this. For your sake. But you need to know that the Dark Lord believes Lucius is at fault for this. He was supposed to lead us to the prophecy and ensure that we retrieved it."

"You said 'Dumbledore's people.' Are you talking about the Order?"

"I thought they were gone, but it seemed like—"

Narcissa cut her sister off. "And the Dark Lord expected Lucius to be able to stop all of them?" She laughed coldly. "Probably outnumbered and with no warning that Dumbledore himself would be part of the fight? That's lunacy."

"I should've been in charge." Bellatrix's nostrils flared, and she folded her arms over her chest. "I wouldn't have let this happen."

The Manor was silent for several moments as Narcissa stared at her sister, her eyes narrowed venomously. When she spoke at last, her voice was firm.

"Get out."

Bellatrix blinked. "And go where? They got Rodolphus, too, and the Dark Lord doesn't particularly want me to—"

"I don't _care_ right now, Bella. If you're going to speak ill of my husband, I want you out of my house."

Bellatrix's jaw tightened. She stood still for a few seconds, looking as though she wanted either to say something biting or fire some sort of curse, but then she turned on her heel and strode out the front door, slamming it behind her without another word.

Trembling, Narcissa made her way around the chair to drop into it slowly, drawing her knees up to her chest and staring into the empty fireplace as she began to weep. She would not accept this. She would make her way to the Ministry at first light and plead her case and do whatever she had to in order to ensure her husband's freedom.

Until then, she knew she would be able to do little more than sit here and scream at herself in her mind for not speaking more loudly when she'd said " _I love you_ " as he left—for not being completely sure that he'd heard her.


	2. Resistance

**A/N:** **Thank you very much for the reviews/follows/faves. This one is quite a bit more emotional to write as well as to read, so I appreciate the feedback. This chapter ended up shorter than the first, and I hope that those later end up being longer than this, but I hope it does what it set out to do.**

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Chapter Two- Resistance

"I apologize, Lady Malfoy, but there's nothing we can do. Minister's orders."

Narcissa hadn't bothered attempting to sleep. She'd known it would be useless to do so, and instead, she'd spent her time preparing to face the Aurors. She'd studied more than her fair share of Wizarding law and politics over the years, whether by choice or by accident as Lucius had ranted to her about work and its frustrations, and she'd believed she was prepared to argue her way out of whatever excuse the Ministry tried to give her. Instead, they'd refuted her assertions that they were holding Lucius illegally and told her Minister Fudge had far more important things to deal with in the wake of the Ministry invasion than dealing with her complaints.

Lucius had always told her Fudge was an idiot, and now she found herself agreeing wholeheartedly. Fudge had seemed incompetent before, and Narcissa had often been of the mind that in his position advising the Minister, Lucius had been more in charge of things than had the other man. She'd hoped that the time the two had spent together and the willingness Lucius had always shown to assist Fudge and donate to whatever cause the Minister wished him to support would be worth _something_ when it came down to drawing lines of loyalty. Now, as she stood shivering through layers of clothing within the stone walls of the prison she'd taken a boat to reach, it was clear that she'd placed too much faith in the system. She would not make that mistake again.

"This is _illegal_ ," Narcissa asserted, glaring at the pair of Aurors blocking her path. "By our laws, until you've proven my husband guilty of something, you have no right to keep me from seeing him!"

"Minister Fudge believes this attack warrants an exception, considering your husband was in the company of several prisoners who escaped Azkaban recently after being convicted of some fairly heavy crimes. And, you know, wearing the robes of a Death Eater after breaking in to the bloody Ministry." The Auror watched her with narrowed eyes. Though he was at least half a foot taller than she, Narcissa returned his glare full-force and kept her chin raised in defiance.

"Regardless of what proof you think you have," she said, her voice cold, "it is not enough to give you permission to violate our rights or to speak to me in that way." She'd spent the morning arguing with low-level Ministry personnel and the afternoon talking her way through their ranks only to be denied an audience with Fudge and told to take up her grievance with the Auror Office. They'd only laughed at her, and so she'd made her way to Azkaban, planning to continue pestering whoever would listen until she made some sort of progress.

"I've tried telling you politely, but you insist on pressing the matter." The Auror folded his arms over his chest, taking a step toward his companion. "There's nothing I can do, and to be frank, considering the trouble your husband gave us getting here, I don't think I would even if I could. He's dangerous."

A vicious surge of pride and satisfaction swept through Narcissa at the idea of Lucius giving the Aurors difficulty. In her estimation, they more than deserved it, for what they'd done to him. Narcissa knew, deep down far enough that she was often able to convince herself that she didn't, that she couldn't deny the crimes Lucius had committed. She knew it was the Aurors' job to put a stop to dark magic, but that didn't give them the right to be unnecessarily antagonistic, and in all honesty, she didn't care that they were doing what they were paid to do. All she cared about at the moment was Lucius, and these people were keeping her from him, which was unacceptable.

Lucius was 'dangerous,' the Auror had said. Narcissa had half a mind to show the man 'dangerous,' if he said another word against her husband. She'd taken all she could stand from Bellatrix, and the stress of the situation combined with her lack of sleep and her agitation at herself for the way she'd acted the previous night had combined to utterly destroy her patience.

She opened her mouth to protest further, but she stopped cold when her attention was arrested by the sound of voices from down the corridor. She caught sight of a group of Aurors surrounding a smaller group clad in stripes, and behind these men and women hovered a pair of dementors.

Narcissa had started toward them before her mind had fully processed her decision to move. She didn't know exactly what she expected to find—even if Lucius was among the prisoners, she couldn't hope to get to him without interference from the guards or, at worst, the dementors. Still, she knew she had to try. She had to do _something_ , and if trying to reach him through a security detail was her only option, she thought, then so be it.

She ignored the shouts and footsteps from behind her—"You can't go that way!" "Get back here!"—and hurried forward. None of the faces of the Aurors were familiar, and the first person she caught sight of wearing the dull, oppressive prison colors was Travers, who met her gaze and nodded subtly to the side as the group's location and Narcissa's converged. She followed the gesture and shifted on her path, approaching from the other side and pretending not to notice the agitated cries of the guards both in front of and behind her.

 _I don't care. I don't care what they do to me. I need to see him._

And there he was, the robes she'd last seen him in stripped away in favor of the Azkaban uniform that looked indescribably uncomfortable and the smile he'd tried to give her as an apology as he'd left nowhere to be found. His gaze was hard and pointed forward.

" _Lucius!_ "

He turned his head toward her, his grey eyes widening as he caught sight of her, and whatever compliance he'd shown to the Aurors evaporated. He pushed forward as she broke into a run, paying no mind to anyone or anything else and throwing her arms around his neck the instant she reached him.

"I'm so sorry," said Lucius, pulling her to him tightly and pressing his face to her hair. "They wouldn't let me contact you or—"

"This is not your fault." Narcissa shook her head hard as tears began to slip down her cheeks. "They're mad. They can't do this."

A hand closed around her arm and pulled her roughly backward, but still she held on, refusing to loosen her grip on her husband. She saw that several of the Aurors had now directed her attention to him and were attempting to pry the pair apart, but Lucius continued to struggle against them.

"They've already decided we're guilty," he said, shooting a poisonous look at one of the people who sought to pull him away before returning his focus to Narcissa.

"I'll get you out of here—I'll—I'll find a way." A second hand gripped her waist and pulled her back, and though she put the entirety of her weight into resisting, she knew she wouldn't be able to for long.

"Get yourself out of here!" Lucius glanced to the dementors, which had begun to glide forward to assist the human guards, and when his eyes returned to his wife's, they were panicked for the first time she could recall in years. "It's not safe. Protect Draco, Cissy, and protect yourself. I'll be fine." As one of the Aurors gave a particularly forceful pull, one of Lucius's hands slipped from Narcissa's waist, and she lost her grip on his shoulders. When he turned his head to snarl at the Auror, she noticed a dark marking along his neck that hadn't been there the previous night, and her stomach turned. After less than a day here, they had marked him. A series of numbers and letters was emblazoned on his pale skin, and suddenly, the urge to strike one of the people pulling at either of them rushed over Narcissa.

"I will," she called over the rising shouts of the people around her. A few of the other Death Eaters had seized the opportunity to attempt to fight their way out, and jets of light had begun to ricochet down the stone corridor. "Lucius, I'm—I'm so sorry I got angry with you, I know you couldn't help—"

" _Enough!_ "

The pair of Aurors restraining Narcissa lifted her from the ground in their effort to pull her backward, and she let out a frustrated cry, her feet seeking the floor unsuccessfully as they dragged her in the opposite direction their counterparts had begun to drag Lucius.

"I love you!" she shouted, and when she heard the words echo back across the space between them, she stopped resisting her captors and began to sob.

She was escorted back to the entrance, the Aurors continuing to glare at her as they stopped walking.

"Can we trust you not to cause any more disruptions?"

"Yes," she snapped. "Let go of me."

She sniffed as they did so, torn between regretting allowing herself such a show of emotion in front of these people and regretting not moving for her wand while she'd had the chance. Narcissa had never been a violent woman. Unlike her husband and her sister, she'd always preferred to solve her problems with words instead of with curses, but words, it seemed, would get her nowhere, now.

"Your transportation is outside," said one of the Aurors, glancing pointedly to the doors behind where Narcissa stood. "I'd suggest leaving quickly; the storm's supposed to get worse."

She sighed heavily and turned away, pushing open the doors and stepping out onto the dock as she raised her hood to shield her face from the rain that had begun to pelt the surrounding area while she'd been inside. She climbed into the boat she'd used to reach the prison and cast a final glance up at the walls separating her from her husband, mentally cursing each and every person responsible for what she felt was an incredible injustice.

Holding tight to the edge of the boat with one hand, Narcissa raised her wand with the other and flicked her wrist, and the boat began its course toward the shore. As a wave of nausea rolled over her, Narcissa closed her eyes, telling herself it was only seasickness. She didn't imagine she could endure another complication.


	3. Numb

**A/N: Sorry this took a bit longer than I'd planned to get done. I'm hoping chapter four will come more quickly. Reviews are encouraged and greatly appreciated, and thank you to those of you who have.  
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Chapter Three- Numb

Narcissa sat in the plush white chair she always chose when visiting the home of her sister-in-law, the warmth of the fire beside her not enough to completely chase away the chill that had soaked through her along with the rain. She'd wrapped herself in a blanket borrowed from Lucius's sister Lara, who was his junior by two years and Narcissa's by one, and accepted with a quiet word of thanks the cup of tea Lara passed to her before taking the seat to Narcissa's right.

"I can't believe you went out there alone," said Lara, shaking her head. Her eyes were the same grey as her brother's, and her blond hair was pulled back neatly enough to make Narcissa feel a bit disheveled in comparison, which didn't improve her mood. She'd looked impeccable when she'd left home that morning, as she'd hoped it might help to make her slightly more intimidating when facing the Aurors, but the storm had taken more out of her than she cared to admit. She was still trembling despite the heat off the cup in her hands, and her nausea had only multiplied when she'd returned to dry land. "It's unbelievably dangerous."

"I had to try. And I had to see him, even if it was just for a moment."

"How is he?"

"Angry. Rebellious." Narcissa sighed. "He resisted the guards, and I didn't exactly make it easy on them, either. It's ridiculous, Lara. The Ministry shouldn't be able to do this, and they've already—he's got a _tattoo_ , Azkaban markings…" She trailed off, staring down into the ripples breaking over the surface of the tea in response to her shaking hands. Less than a day ago, Narcissa had been convinced that everything was normal. She'd believed that this was just another mission—that Lucius would be returning home and they would be able to go on with their lives, he awaiting the next task and she pretending not to be a bit curious about what he had needed to do in order to return to her. Instead, he was trapped in Azkaban surrounded by dementors and Aurors and she'd nearly drowned after trying to reach him.

"Did you see Mathias?" asked Lara.

Narcissa shook her head. "I'm sorry. Only a few of them were in the group I saw; the Aurors must be separating them."

Lara nodded slowly and took a sip of her own tea, frowning. "I was asleep, when he left. When I woke this morning and he wasn't back, I panicked. I didn't know what to do. Then one of Fudge's lackeys showed up on the doorstep to tell me he'd been arrested."

Narcissa's stomach twisted. She wondered briefly whether it was more due to Lara's words or the persistent uneasiness that didn't appear to be leaving her anytime soon, and she blew a light breath across the surface of her cup before taking a drink. Lara had married Mathias Mulciber shortly after Hogwarts, and the pair had two children, the eldest of whom was in the year below Draco in school.

"I wish they'd been able to owl us," Narcissa said after a moment. "I nearly went mad waiting up."

"Well, that's why I made a point to tell you."

Narcissa looked up at the sound of the voice from the doorway. Bellatrix stood watching her, the elder sister's expression guarded.

"The elf let me in," Bellatrix added to Lara. A moment later, the small creature in question bobbed into view, leaning around Bellatrix's skirt to fix its large eyes on Lara.

"She insisted, Mistress—Elly tried to—"

"No, it's fine." Lara raised her hand, and the elf glanced nervously from her to the dark-haired witch and back. "Tea, Bellatrix?"

"I'm not staying. I went to the Manor looking for you, Cissy, and when you weren't home, I thought you might be here."

Lara waved to dismiss the elf and shifted her focus to her tea with a raised brow, and Narcissa closed her eyes, drawing in a deep breath she hoped would steady her.

"I haven't been for long," she said. "I went to try to negotiate with Fudge's people, and when that didn't work, I went to the prison myself. You…" She paused, forcing herself to choose her words carefully. She knew Bellatrix hadn't exactly chosen to be the sole Death Eater who'd escaped punishment, and though she was severely unapologetic about it, Narcissa reminded herself that this was nothing new, for her sister. She'd been dragged into countless arguments between Bellatrix and Lucius over the years, and she believed if it weren't for her own sake and the backlash it would've surely brought from the Dark Lord, one of them would've maimed the other by now. Bellatrix was also incredibly devoted to her master— _to put it lightly,_ thought Narcissa—and unwilling to accept failure in his eyes, and regardless of what had really happened, Narcissa was unsurprised by her sister's eagerness to find someone to blame. "You should consider yourself lucky," she said at last. "Everyone else is in a lot worse shape than you are, right now."

"They're safer, where they are." Bellatrix started forward, folding her arms and glancing around the room at the portraits and decorations and everything but her sister as she went on. "The Dark Lord is furious." She rubbed almost unconsciously at her arm beneath her sleeve, and Narcissa wondered whether the Dark Lord had taken out some of that fury on her sister. "He says his plans have to change, now, and he's going to need to start recruiting, with eleven of us unable to assist him."

Narcissa took a long drink from her tea cup, biting back the urge to tell Bellatrix exactly how little she cared about what the Dark Lord did to replace the incarcerated Death Eaters and how much more logical and beneficial to everyone involved it would be if he were to focus instead on _freeing_ them. Thankfully, Lara spoke before the silence became long enough to draw suspicion as to Narcissa's dangerous line of thought.

"They may not be there long. The man the Ministry sent to tell me this morning said they're scheduled for trial within the next few weeks. Surely there's something we can—"

Bellatrix laughed scathingly, shaking her head as her lips twisted upward. "You're still so naïve, Lara," she said, her tone condescending. "You don't think the Ministry's already written their verdict?"

Lara frowned and shifted her focus from Bellatrix to the floor between them, her hands tightening on her teacup. "Narcissa did say they'd already given Lucius a prison tattoo."

Narcissa let out a frustrated noise, lowering her drink to rest on her knee so quickly it nearly spilled and letting the blanket fall from her shoulders. "Does anyone have anything productive to offer to this conversation? Because if not, I think I've had enough."

"I was looking for you," said Bellatrix, her eyes shifting to Narcissa, "to ask if I could stay with you for a few days. I've a feeling your place will be at least a bit safer than mine, considering I've already broken out once and they'll be looking for me to try to save everyone else."

 _Oh, if only they knew you,_ thought Narcissa bitterly. She loved her sister; since their childhood, Bellatrix had been one of a very slim number of people Narcissa had always known she could trust, and she knew that if she herself were in danger, Bellatrix would not hesitate to aid her. Narcissa questioned the truth of this only if the Dark Lord had expressly forbidden it, and in the present situation, she believed the punishment Bellatrix would likely incur for aiding those with whom her master was apparently livid would be more than enough to stop her from trying to intervene.

"Yes, Bella." The irritation had drained from Narcissa's tone as quickly as it had entered. She was too exhausted to devote more energy to trying to persuade her sister to feel guilt, and she did want to help, though she doubted how safe Malfoy Manor would be from Ministry investigation, in the coming weeks. "You can stay with me. Go and get your things, if you like, and I'll be home shortly."

"Thank you," Bellatrix muttered. She moved close enough to squeeze Narcissa's shoulder and gave Lara a nod before striding out the doorway through which she'd entered.

"She's as pleasant as ever," said Lara when Bellatrix had gone.

"I want to do what I can for her, but I can't endure her placing the blame for all this on Lucius."

"Is she really?"

Narcissa glanced down at her cup to find that she'd emptied it without realizing, and she shifted it to the table beside her. "That's what she said when she came by after midnight to tell me what had happened. I'm sorry—if I'd been in the right state of mind and realized no one would tell you, I would've come over sooner."

Lara shook her head, her gaze sympathetic. "I can't imagine anyone being in the right state of mind, after the kind of news we've gotten." She paused. "I couldn't make myself read the _Prophet_ , today—I imagine it's everywhere, by now. And I'm sure the children have heard." She rested her elbow on the arm of her chair and dropped her head into her hand, and Narcissa stared at her, her blue eyes widening in horror.

"I haven't written Draco," she said, the words leaving her lips before she could stop herself from letting her worries into the outside world. "He'll have heard about it from everyone but me, and he's bound to be devastated, and—"

" _Narcissa._ " Lara reached out to rest her hand on Narcissa's over the table between them, shaking her head firmly. "Draco will understand that you've been doing everything you can to fix this and get his father set free. He won't be angry with you."

Narcissa slid out of the chair and to her feet, squeezing Lara's hand apologetically before releasing it. "I need to get home and send him an owl. It's too late to reach him in the Great Hall, but maybe if I—"

She broke off as another wave of nausea overwhelmed her, this one much more powerful than the last. She glanced around the room in a panic and hurried for the wastepaper basket sitting beside the wall, mentally screaming at herself for this lapse in decorum as she was unable to stop herself from becoming violently ill. Lara hurried to her side, resting a hand on her back until Narcissa eventually lowered the basket, her face pale.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be ridiculous. Are you all right?"

Narcissa shrugged noncommittally. "I've just been feeling ill since I was at the prison. I thought I was seasick, but it's been a little too long for that, now."

"Did you eat something that could've caused it?" asked Lara.

"I…" Narcissa paused, shifting her eyes to the floor as she recalled that she hadn't eaten anything since she'd forced down a piece of toast before leaving home, as though she'd been too distraught to be hungry, she hadn't known when she would be returning and had believed she should make an attempt. "No, I haven't eaten since breakfast. It doesn't feel like food poisoning, anyway. In fact, I haven't felt like this since—" She froze, eyes wide as she stared forward without seeing the room around her. That was absurd. Yes, the feeling reminded her quite a bit of morning sickness, but that wasn't a reasonable diagnosis, was it? After all… after the amount of attempts it had taken her and Lucius to have Draco, with how much difficulty Narcissa had in becoming pregnant—not to mention her difficulty in carrying to term—what were the odds that it had now happened accidentally?

"You're not thinking—"

"I don't know," Narcissa said quickly, looking to Lara, who was watching her with raised brows and an open mouth. _It's certainly possible, yes,_ she thought, _but jumping to conclusions isn't going to help any_ —

"When was the last time—?"

" _Lara._ "

"I was going to ask if you'd missed—"

" _Please_ , just let me think." Narcissa racked her memory for the answers to the question she hadn't let Lara ask, and had she still possessed any color in her cheeks, it would've drained away as she realized that the conclusion to which she'd jumped was indeed a very plausible one. "Yes," she said at last. "I did. I… I'm… I can't be, not right now." Tears stung her eyes as the injustice of the situation crashed down on her as though it were made of lead. "Not while Lucius is gone."

"Cissy, this is a wonderful thing," said Lara, resting her hand on her sister-in-law's shoulder and giving it a squeeze. "And I still don't think they'll be able to keep him for long. You need to try to believe that."

Narcissa nodded slowly, wishing that believing in anything ending positively was as easy as it had been before the return of the Dark Lord.


	4. Homecoming

**A/N:** **Draco's a bit difficult, but I'm blaming it on stress. Thank you again for the follows/faves/reviews/etc. This one's really emotional to write, and I appreciate the love.**

* * *

Chapter Four- Homecoming

"Can I bring you anything? Is your tea all right? If it isn't hot enough, I can—"

"Mother. It's okay. Really."

Narcissa bit her lip as she watched the pale and drawn face of her son, whom she sat beside on a green chaise in Malfoy Manor's lounge. The grounds were dark, as she could see in her periphery through the full-length window behind Draco, apart from a small spot of white in the form of a peacock strutting past the glass. Narcissa had spent the morning pacing the rooms and corridors of her home, running through hundreds of versions of the conversation she would have with Draco when he'd returned from Hogwarts. She hadn't been certain what piece of news would be the best with which to begin, and she'd practiced each of them in turn. _Draco, everything you've read in_ The Daily Prophet _is true; yes, the Ministry has arrested your father, and the years we spent trying to convince the Wizarding World that we were finished with the Dark Lord have been for absolutely nothing, because now they have proof otherwise. I know the letter I sent you came after you'd already heard about it from everyone else, and I still haven't forgiven myself for that. Draco, your aunt managed not to get arrested, unlike everyone else involved, and she's decided to blame your father for everything. She's also staying with us. Draco, I'm pregnant. I'm just as surprised as you are._

For the moment, she said none of this aloud. Now that he was here in her presence, safe at home and away from what she could only imagine had been a tortuous term's end surrounded by the judgment and censure of his schoolmates, she was in no hurry to upset him. Perhaps she could delay the inevitable for a few moments longer.

"How are you?"

She felt her cheeks flush as soon as she'd spoken the words, and she looked away from her son's face and down at her own folded hands in her lap in her embarrassment. She knew the question had been a stupid one. There was no way he could be well, with everything that was happening, but he was still and would always be her little boy, whom she'd pulled into her arms after countless long and tiring days and held and told stories and assured that everything would be all right. Even when she knew his answer before he gave it, she would never be rid of the reflex to ask how he was feeling.

"I'm fine," said Draco. "Given the circumstances."

Narcissa looked up as Draco raised the tea to his lips and drank, his face blank. His tone had been equally well-controlled, and as she realized how hard he seemed to be trying to shut her out, she felt suddenly ill. He lowered the cup and shook his head, setting it on the table in front of the chaise.

"I can get you something else, if—"

"Mother, stop. Worrying about me isn't going to bring him back."

Narcissa froze with her mouth still open, staring at the boy who looked so very much like his father and who appeared to have spoken without thinking and immediately regret it, as he reached out to take her hand in his own.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I didn't—I didn't mean that. I'm sorry, Mum."

He leaned over to embrace her, and Narcissa held to him tightly, choking back the tears that wanted to burst forth. She refused to cry in front of him. She had to remain strong, for both of them. For the baby, and for Lucius. A moment passed in which Narcissa and Draco remained still, and then he closed his eyes, lowering his head a bit to rest it on his mother's shoulder.

"I've just been surrounded by fools at school, and every other word out of someone's mouth has been something against Father or you or me, and it's driving me mad. And then there's _Potter_ , walking around like he's some great hero for what he did, and it's infuriating. He gets to talk about it all like he's our savior for telling everyone the Dark Lord's returned. It's his fault—he's the one who got Father and the rest of them sent to Azkaban, and who're the rest of the students going to side with, really? Me or Dumbledore's pet?"

"Hush, now." Narcissa closed her eyes, her arms tightening around Draco and one of her hands moving upward to allow her to run her fingers through his white-blond hair, hoping to bring him some sort of comfort with the motion as she had when he'd been a child. Though he was barely sixteen, she thought he seemed so much older, though she knew that was probably because, like her, he had been worn down prematurely by the state of the world around him and the things he'd seen. As much as she wished it weren't true, she knew he had only just begun to see terrible things, and she would've traded anything to be able to shield him from how difficult life was about to become. "I'm so sorry you've had to face that," she said quietly. "It isn't fair for someone so young to be brought into all this."

"How old were you?"

Narcissa paused in her stroking of her son's hair, opening her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"The first time the Dark Lord rose to power."

"I…"

She paused, frowning as she sought the words to explain. That period of history was one she had always tried to avoid discussing with Draco, as had Lucius. Naturally Draco had come to them with questions after hearing things at school or from other children whose parents had been involved, but Lucius and Narcissa had always believed that the less their son knew about what had transpired before his birth and in his infancy, the better it would be for him. There was no avoiding the truth, anymore, as she admitted to herself now. The Ministry would surely drag old evidence into play at Lucius's trial, and even if it didn't, rumors were sure to reach Draco sooner or later.

"I was about your age," said Narcissa. She gave Draco a final squeeze and leaned back to meet his eyes as she spoke, shifting to hold his hand instead. "We were still in school, when the Dark Lord's power started growing strong enough for people to notice. Your father joined him before leaving Hogwarts, like a lot of them did. Your grandfather Abraxas was already involved. He'd known the Dark Lord for a long time—how long, I'm not sure—and he made sure your father knew everything he could teach about what the Dark Lord wanted and how much it would benefit our kind, if he was successful. Your father started training to fight over holidays and then going back to school, where people knew something was brewing but they weren't sure what it was. He didn't talk about it much, back then. Most of what I heard came from my sister Bella, though that wasn't much either, because she'd already moved out of our house, by that time."

"Why didn't you fight with them?" asked Draco.

Narcissa shrugged. "Fighting isn't for me. Now, I can argue circles around anyone—even your father, sometimes—and I did everything I could to help them without taking the Mark. I've studied so much healing magic I'm fairly certain I could be hired at St. Mungo's, and I've had to use it far too often for my liking. But I've never wanted to be out there wearing one of the masks. Besides, your father made it clear early on that it wasn't an option. 'I'm doing this for you,' he said, 'so that you don't have to. For you and for Draco, so that you'll be safe.'"

Draco let out a short breath and shook his head. "Safe," he repeated.

"That's what he thought, Draco. We all did. We thought that if the Dark Lord won, our kind wouldn't have to keep living in secrecy, afraid the Muggles would persecute us or worse and the traitors would help them. Your father thought he was doing what was best by trying to create a world where we wouldn't have to hide. After the Dark Lord fell…" Narcissa sighed, running her thumb over the back of Draco's hand. "Most everyone else went to Azkaban, and we decided to tell the Ministry we'd acted against our will. Now they know that wasn't true, and I'm not sure what they're going to do about it."

Draco paused, frowning as he stared at a spot on the lush, dark green carpet. "Is there no hope, then?" he asked after a moment. "At the trial?"

"Of course there's hope." Narcissa squeezed Draco's hand and tried to give him a reassuring smile as he returned his focus to her, though she felt the expression was much less effective than she'd hoped when his own did not change. "We'll think of something. I don't care who I have to pay—" _or threaten,_ she added mentally, "—but I refuse to take this sitting down."

Draco nodded, watching her levelly. For a moment, Narcissa wondered whether he believed she truly had any ability to change the Ministry's mind, but then she decided she would rather not know the answer.

"Now, there are some other things I need to tell you, now that you're home."

Draco hesitated. "I don't know how much more bad news I can handle."

"It's not bad… exactly. Well, I suppose you can be the judge of that." Narcissa drew in a deep breath, her shoulders lifting to make her appear closer to Draco's height for a moment before lowering as she exhaled and returning her to her normal size. "Aunt Bella's staying with us, for a little while. I know the two of you haven't had much of a chance to bond, as she's been in prison since you were very young. It's going to be a bit of an adjustment. You should know that she's very… open about her opinions, to put it lightly, and I want you to remember not to take anything she says about your father to heart. All right?"

"That sounds promising," Draco said flatly. "Should I be expecting her to say something?"

"I don't know if she will, around you, but it wouldn't surprise me in the least."

"Is that all, then? I think I'll be able to handle Aunt Bella."

 _Easy to say without knowing her. And… here it is,_ thought Narcissa, the anxiety she'd successfully fought back returning once again as she knew it was time at last.

"There's one more thing. Draco… I'm pregnant."

He stared at her, his expression uncomprehending. "What?"

"I've only just found out, and your father doesn't know, yet. The only one who does is Aunt Lara, other than you."

"You…" Draco struggled for words for several moments, frowning. "Now?" he asked at last. "Of all times?"

"It isn't like we _planned_ it, or for anyof this to happen." Narcissa stared at her son, feeling increasingly like the situation was an overturned bowl of water that she was attempting to keep from running through her fingers. "I thought you'd always wanted a little brother or sister, anyway."

"And now I'm too old to grow up with him or her, and Father's…" Draco closed his eyes. A moment of silence passed between them, during which Narcissa wanted nothing more than to run into the middle of an empty field and scream until her lungs ached. Eventually, Draco opened his eyes again, squeezing her hand. "I do want a sibling. I'm happy about this, I really am. It's all just a lot to process."

"I know," said Narcissa, breathing a bit more easily after Draco's words. She wasn't certain she would've been able to handle it, if he'd gotten angry with her. "And I'm sorry to dump it all on you at once."

"You can't exactly help it—it's all happening."

"Yes, it is. Come here." She leaned forward to embrace him again, and as his arms wound around her, she felt him sigh. "No matter what's going to happen, we're facing it together, all right?"

"Yeah. And they won't keep Father forever."

"Of course not." Narcissa had to believe that. Anything else was unacceptable. "I love you, Draco."

"I love you, too."

Narcissa closed her eyes and held her son tighter, willing the rest of the world to give their family peace for just a while longer.


	5. Family Ties

Chapter Five- Family Ties

 _Just relax. Everything is going to be perfectly fine._

Narcissa didn't believe the words no matter how she tried to convince herself that they were true, but that didn't stop her from repeating them in her mind as she sat beside her son at the dining room table. She tried hard not to glance at the empty seat on her left, at the head of the table, no matter how strong the urge to do so became. It was habit, she knew, and one that she would have to suppress until the seat was filled again, if she didn't want to worsen the pain.

"So, is… _everything_ they say about Aunt Bella true?"

Narcissa turned her head to face her son, who sat on her right. The rest of the dark wooden chairs surrounding the long, ornate table were unoccupied, though the place directly across from Narcissa had been made up for Bellatrix, who was running several minutes late.

An instant passed in which Narcissa debated lying. She didn't want to encourage her son to hate his aunt before they'd had the chance to properly meet, but she knew if he didn't hear the truth from her, he was still likely to hear it from Bellatrix, who took too much pride in her exploits for the Dark Lord not to brag about them, presumably even to her sixteen-year-old nephew.

"Probably so," Narcissa admitted, picking at the corner of the napkin she'd rested in her lap. "But please don't let that ruin your view of her completely. She really does love us."

"She loves you," said Draco with a shrug. "She doesn't know me."

"She did when you were very young." Narcissa reached out to squeeze Draco's hand before returning her own to her lap. "Too young to remember."

"And she's been in Azkaban since then?"

Narcissa nodded, and Draco let out a sigh.

"You know," he said, "for everything wonderful I've heard about your side of the family—the Noble House of Black, everyone always says—I know very few of them."

"There _are_ very few of them, Draco," Narcissa said quietly. Her thoughts drifted to her childhood, when she'd lived with her parents and two sisters and spent holidays with cousins who were now dead. A few distant relatives remained, but no one she believed would be a particularly good influence on her son or the child now growing within her.

Narcissa and Draco sat in silence for several moments, and then the door to the kitchens opened, a rather small house-elf bobbing into the room.

"Is Mistress ready for Prim to bring out breakfast?" the elf squeaked.

"Not yet," said Narcissa, glancing to the plate left out for Bellatrix with a sigh. "Just a few more minutes, Prim. She'll be here, I'm sure."

"Yes, Mistress." The elf nodded hastily and turned for the door again, but she'd only taken a few steps when Bellatrix swept into the dining room through the double-doors connected to the corridor outside. Bellatrix scowled as she caught sight of the elf and then looked to the table, her dark eyes narrowing.

"Why isn't the food out yet?" she demanded. "Go and get it, you useless—"

"Bella," said Narcissa evenly, "I told her to wait for you. I thought we'd planned on eating at nine?"

Prim scurried back into the kitchens, and Bellatrix turned her gaze on her sister.

"I must've overslept," she said with a shrug. "Is that the same elf you had before?"

"No." Narcissa fidgeted with her wedding ring while waiting for her sister to sit, offering no further explanation on the absence of Dobby and hoping Bellatrix chose not to pry.

Bellatrix shrugged and strode lazily toward the table. She brushed past the seat reserved for her and slipped instead into the vacant one beside Narcissa, who watched her with an abject horror to which Bellatrix was either oblivious or uncaring. Draco, on the other hand, found his voice.

"That's Father's seat," he said sharply.

"Yes, well, I doubt he's worried about it, right now."

Narcissa closed her eyes and forced a deep breath into her lungs. Losing her temper would do precious little for anyone, at the moment.

"You look even more like him now than you did the last time I saw you," said Bellatrix. Narcissa opened her eyes at the sound of a plate scraping across the table, and she found her sister shifting each of the items that had been arranged for her at the ignored seat into place at the one she had chosen. "I'd hoped you'd get some of our side's coloration, but no such luck."

"I'd say the odds were against it," said Draco, his voice hot with irritation. "Maybe you'll have better luck with the next niece or nephew."

Narcissa looked to her son, her mouth falling open. "Draco!" She hadn't been prepared to give Bellatrix the news. She realized a moment too late that if she hadn't reacted, Draco's comment could've been passed off as hypothetical, and her cheeks burned.

"Cissy?"

Narcissa shifted her focus slowly back to her sister, who was watching her with both dark brows raised and the fork in her hand halfway to her plate in its path across the table.

"Yes, Bella. I've just found out I'm expecting."

A beat of silence passed, and then Bellatrix cackled. "Brilliant. Then I'll get to help this one learn to fight properly. I wanted to teach you, Draco, but circumstances…" She dragged the fork the remainder of the way toward her plate, and Narcissa cringed when the utensil scratched against the wood, leaving tiny marks in its wake. "Does your husband know?" Bellatrix asked, looking to Narcissa.

"Not yet."

The door swung open once again, and the elf bustled into the dining room, balancing plates of pastries, toast, bacon, sausage, and assorted other foods. Narcissa hadn't been certain what her sister would want, and so she'd requested a variety. Now, she found herself wishing she hadn't been quite so accommodating, but she pushed the thought away. Prim set the plates down and rushed back into the kitchens, returning moments later with a pitcher of water, with which she filled the goblets belonging to each person.

"Can Prim do more, Mistress?" the elf squeaked.

"No, thank you. We'll call you if we need anything else."

The elf bowed deeply and departed, the door swinging shut behind her. Bellatrix clicked her tongue.

"You're far too soft with it, Cissy."

"I ask her for what I need, and I see no point in being unnecessarily rude." Narcissa lifted her goblet to her lips and took a long drink of water, aware that she was holding on too tightly and that her knuckles were turning white but not caring. "Merlin knows we've made enough enemies," she said as she set the goblet down at last and returned her focus to her sister. "We don't need to go around making more just because we're having a bad day."

"You can't make an enemy of an elf," said Bellatrix, and Narcissa received the distinct impression from her sister's tone that Bellatrix believed she was lecturing a small child. "Its loyalty is to you. It doesn't have a choice."

"I've a feeling Kreacher would see things differently," said Narcissa coldly, shifting a pastry onto her plate as she narrowed her eyes at Bellatrix, "or have you forgotten that he's the one who told you what you needed to know to get his master killed?"

"Told _us_." Bellatrix stabbed a piece of sausage much harder than necessary with her fork. "Or have you forgotten? I'll take most of the credit—I did kill Sirius—but that elf did most of its talking to you, Narcissa."

Saying nothing, Narcissa took a bite of pastry, though she found it tasted much less appetizing than she'd hoped, with these thoughts dripping through her mind.

"You don't have to get quiet," said Bellatrix, reaching out to squeeze her sister's arm. "I'm proud of you. It's about time you got those hands of yours dirty."

Draco coughed, and Narcissa shrugged off Bellatrix's hand before looking to him.

"Why don't you tell your aunt how well you've done in school, love?"

 _Get her to focus on something that doesn't make me want to retch,_ Narcissa thought. The last thing she'd needed was to have guilt for Sirius's death dumped on her when she was already worried about too many other things to count. She wasn't sure what she found more sickening—the fact that she hadn't realized sooner how dirty her hands were in the matter of her cousin's death or the fact that she knew Bellatrix was completely sincere about being proud of her for her involvement, however inadvertent it had been.

Draco shrugged, taking a bite of bacon without looking up from his plate. "I made Prefect."

"Ah. I expect that made your parents proud," said Bellatrix. She glanced to Narcissa, who gathered from Bellatrix's expression that she both believed she was playing nicely and should be commended for it, and then back to Draco. "Each of them was Head—separate years, naturally."

"They told me." Draco continued eating, his focus remaining on his plate and deliberately away from his aunt.

"Bet they didn't tell you which rules they still broke."

"Oh, give it a _rest_ , Bella! Please!" Narcissa rolled her eyes and pushed her plate back several inches, finding her desire to eat severely diminished. "I'm trying hard not to be a completely dreadful influence on him, and in five minutes, you've already tried to bring up things I don't want to discuss and taken it upon yourself to teach both Draco and my unborn child how to fight. Is there anything else?"

Bellatrix drummed her fingers against the table and shrugged. "I was building up to it."

Narcissa's throat went dry. "What?"

"The Dark Lord wants to speak to Draco."

This, at last, captured the boy's attention. He looked to Bellatrix with wide eyes, and Narcissa's pulse began to accelerate. _What could he possibly want with Draco?_ she thought. _Why can't he just leave us alone?_

"Why?" Draco asked. "Why me?"

"I believe he has a task for you," said Bellatrix, "but I'm not completely certain."

 _No. No no no. This can't be happening._

"A task?" repeated Draco. "Like… for the Death Eaters?"

Bellatrix nodded, her lips curling into a smirk. "Would you like that?"

"To join you—them? Like Father? I… of course. I'd be honored."

"Draco," said Narcissa quietly, shaking her head. She knew already that the argument was lost. Draco wanted to hear whatever the Dark Lord had to say, and arguing with what the Dark Lord wanted would only end in disaster. But even though the point was useless, Narcissa couldn't stop herself from protesting. "Love, you're so young…"

"But what if he thinks I'm ready?" The agitation the boy had shown moments before had dissipated, replaced instead by a fierce, determined excitement and a liveliness that Narcissa hadn't seen him show since he'd returned from Hogwarts. "What if I could impress him? Do you think he'd help us get Father out of Azkaban?"

Narcissa's heart ached. She opened her mouth to tell her son that no, she doubted the Dark Lord had any desire whatsoever to be of any assistance on that front, but she couldn't bring herself to say the words. She couldn't disappoint him.

She was spared the need by Bellatrix, who clapped her hands together.

"I'm so glad to hear it, Draco," she said. "I don't know when he'll speak with you, but it will be soon. I'm sure you'll make us all proud."

"Please excuse me."

Narcissa pushed her chair back and started from the room without another word or glance at anyone. She couldn't bear to look at Bellatrix, and if she looked at Draco, she feared she would lose her grip and beg him to say he'd changed his mind. She hurried down the corridor and made her way up the stairs and to her chambers, where she closed the doors behind her and flung herself down onto the bed. She ran her fingertips over the golden, silken sheets and pressed her face to the pillows on the side on which she herself never slept, breathing in the scent of cologne that still lingered on them.

* * *

" _I can't believe th_ _—they've taken her."_

 _Narcissa held to Lucius's shoulders tightly enough that she was certain her fingernails had to be hurting him, but he didn't complain. He only stroked her hair with one hand and kept the other moving gently up and down her back as they lay beneath the canopy, he on his back and she with her head resting on his chest._

" _I know, Cissy," he said quietly. "I know. It's awful."_

" _Isn't there something we can do? Can't you talk to—?"_

" _I've already talked to everyone who'll listen. I tried to suggest to the Minister and to the Wizengamot that your sister acted under the Imperius Curse, but her own testimony made it incredibly clear that she'd meant absolutely everything she'd done, and it very nearly took away all my credibility for trying to convince them otherwise."_

 _Narcissa sighed, and Lucius paused in his stroking of her hair to wipe a tear from her cheek._

" _I'm sorry," he said. "I wish there was more to be done."_

" _I do, too." Narcissa reached for her husband's hand and held to it tightly, bringing it to her lips. "Don't you ever leave me like that," she said. She attempted to sound stern, but she her voice cracked on the final syllable._

 _Lucius's arm tightened around her, and he stretched out the thumb of the hand she held to brush her cheek. "Never."_


	6. Life Sentence

Chapter Six- Life Sentence

Narcissa sat as straight as she could manage in her chair in the courtroom on Level Ten of the Ministry of Magic, her eyes fixed on the group standing at the room's heart. The small mass of chairs that had been allotted for use by the accused had since been shoved aside, as the number of prisoners was vastly greater than the number of chairs the Ministry had been prepared to provide. She kept her focus on Lucius—difficult to see though he was, hidden among the others awaiting their fate—and forced herself not to show the fear that coursed through her with every beat of her heart. He was watching her, as well, and she needed to remain strong.

She held tight to the hand of Draco, who sat beside her, unmoving. Narcissa hoped their presence would ease her husband's mind at least marginally, but though his head was held high and his jaw was set firmly, she knew Lucius had to be terrified. The group of Death Eaters had been escorted into the courtroom by a small battalion of dementors, and Narcissa couldn't imagine how mentally and emotionally draining it must've been to be surrounded by those horrid creatures for the trip from Azkaban, let alone the strain caused by their constant presence outside the men's cells.

The image of Lucius trapped in a cold, dark cell passed through her mind, and she held tighter to Draco's hand, refusing to allow herself the shudder that tried to claim her.

"You have been brought before the Council of Magical Law," began Cornelius Fudge from his podium, "so that we may pass judgment on you." Narcissa's eyes flicked toward Fudge to glare at him with more hatred than she'd ever shown anyone previously. This man was supposed to be her husband's ally, his _friend_ , and here Fudge sat, presiding over this farce of a trial. "You each stand accused of allying yourselves with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his 'Death Eaters.' Each of you is further accused of multiple additional crimes, including—but not limited to—torture, murder, and the use of Unforgivable Curses, as well as breaking into and attempting to rob the Ministry of Magic. For these crimes, the Wizengamot has deemed appropriate a life sentence in Azkaban Wizarding Prison."

Narcissa's blood ran cold. _No. This can't be happening. A life sentence? Surrounded by dementors? They can't possibly go through with it. It's positively inhumane._ She'd heard these words once before, when they'd been the judgment passed on her sister.

"Members of the jury, I ask that all in favor of a life sentence for each of the men standing before you to, please, raise your hands."

Narcissa kept her eyes on Lucius a moment longer to see his widen involuntarily in horror, and then each of them glanced to the jury to watch as every witch and wizard on the panel raised a hand. Her pulse racing to a sickening speed, Narcissa returned her gaze to her husband, whose face had drained completely of color.

"No," she breathed.

Fudge slammed his gavel down hard onto the podium, and the sound echoed through the courtroom like the harsh crack of thunder.

"Then it is done. Avery, Crabbe, Dolohov, Jugson, Lestrange, Lestrange, Malfoy, Macnair, Mulciber, Nott, Rookwood, and Travers—you are hereby sentenced to life imprisonment."

A chill swept over the room as the dementors glided in once again, and Narcissa pushed herself to her feet, tears slipping down her cheeks as she watched the dark, wispy figures begin to surround the prisoners. She stood on her toes, stretching up as high as she could to keep Lucius in her sights despite the rows of people who had started to stand in front of her, their voices building rapidly to a clamor.

"Lucius—"

"Mum." Draco gave Narcissa's hand a slight pull. She saw him move closer in her periphery, but she had not yet removed her focus from his father, whom the dementors were leading toward the doors. "There's nothing we can do for him by causing a scene. It'll probably only make things worse."

She said nothing immediately. She only followed her husband with her eyes, watching him until he had been led with the others out the doors and out of her sight. Narcissa then lifted her free hand to wipe the moisture from her cheeks and allowed her gaze to harden with the cold ire she felt toward everyone remaining in the room apart from the young man at her side. She squeezed Draco's hand.

"Come on, Draco," she said. "Let's get out of this horrid place."

* * *

"Lucius?"

Narcissa had been standing outside the bars for several moments, watching him as he stared upward from the pitiful mattress he'd been given. She'd followed his gaze to the meticulously-carved tick-marks in the desolate, grey ceiling above him, and her heart ached. Four weeks had passed since he'd been home, and each day was recorded above the place he now slept.

He lifted his head at the sound of her voice, and the expression that dawned over him suggested that he was looking into the light of the sun for the first time in years. He was on his feet in the span of a heartbeat, rushing toward the bars and slipping his hands through them to rest on either side of Narcissa's face. His hands were like ice against her cheeks, but she didn't care. Despite the hell surrounding him, Lucius smiled, and he pulled her gently forward until his lips could reach hers. The kiss began as gentle as the movement, but he could not long keep away the hunger. Kisses through prison bars were not enough, and as Narcissa returned this one just as passionately, she hoped Lucius understood now deeply she missed him, as well.

After a moment, Lucius drew back a bit reluctantly, and he stared instead into his wife's eyes. She tried to keep the severity of her worries from entering her expression, but when he spoke, she knew she had failed.

"What is it, Cissy?"

"I… there's something I need to tell you."

She reached up and rested her hand one of his that lingered on her cheek—carefully, as he already looked so weary and fragile that she didn't dare to risk causing him any amount of pain. Narcissa shifted Lucius's hand, pulling it down to brush over her neck, her clavicle, and her breasts and fighting hard not to shiver at the touch she had craved for so long. When her hand reached her stomach, she stopped, looking up into his eyes from beneath her lashes. He held her gaze for a long moment, uncomprehending. She blinked and glanced downward and then back to his face, and she saw the exact moment that understanding entered his eyes.

"You're… we're… ah…"

Narcissa believed she could count on one hand the number of times she had ever seen Lucius speechless. She nodded slowly, her eyes stinging as she bit her lip.

"We're having a baby, Lucius."

She knew she could also count on one hand the times she'd seen him weep. Therefore, when she caught the shine of tears in his eyes, her own began in earnest. She knew he must be feeling the same things that had been warring within her for the last few weeks—joy, love, sadness, fear. They both knew that he would now be trapped in this cold wasteland indefinitely, leaving Narcissa to bear their child alone, and then there was the treacherous and unforgiving world into which the child was to be born. A world in which he or she might not have a father, and where even if so, Lucius had fallen so far in the Dark Lord's eyes that there was no guarantee of his family's safety.

"That's wonderful," said Lucius at last with a small smile.

"Really?" Narcissa watched him for signs of sincerity, her gaze questioning.

"Of course, my rose. I'm thrilled. Come here." Through the bars, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her as close as he could manage. She attempted to return his embrace, cursing this damnable place for making it absurdly difficult to reach him. "Everything is going to be all right. I promise you."

"How?" she asked, and her voice cracked. "How can it be?"

"This punishment will not last forever. I promise you that I will be with you again soon. I don't know how or when, but I will not die here. You will not have to do this alone, Narcissa. Do you believe me?"

She clung to him tightly and nodded. For a long moment, they stood in silence. Narcissa knew she didn't have long before the Aurors would return to escort her from the premises, but for right now, she was here in her husband's arms, and nothing else mattered.

"I love you," she whispered.

"And I love you. Always."

She felt the brush of his lips against her hair, and then a moment later, she felt him shudder.

"Cissy, look at me," he said. She lifted her head to do so, and Lucius inhaled deeply before speaking again. "You have to go."

Narcissa blinked, unable to keep her disappointment from slipping to the surface. "Go? I only just—"

"I don't want to alarm you," Lucius said with forced calm, "but it isn't safe to be here for long." He glanced meaningfully at the corridor behind her, and she followed his gaze to find the shadows roiling beyond where the Aurors stood watching her and Lucius with unconcealed distaste. She paid the Aurors no mind, but she knew the shifting darkness beyond them concealed dementors.

"I can't leave you to this, darling." Narcissa looked to Lucius again, the thought of abandoning him to the mercy of the soul-sucking creatures enough to send her into a panic.

"You must. This is my sentence to serve." One of his hands moved again to her cheek while he continued to embrace her with the other. "Protect our children, Cissy."

 _Children._ She realized, then, that Lucius had no idea that the Dark Lord wished to drag Draco into the mess into which the world outside was falling.

"Lucius, Draco's…"

She wanted to tell him that their son was likely soon to join the Death Eaters in his father's place… but she could not bring herself to say the words. She could not willingly inflict more pain on the man she loved, who was already suffering so greatly.

Narcissa sighed. "He misses you terribly."

"And I him. Narcissa, what else is troubling you?"

"It's… nothing. Nothing at all."

Lucius opened his mouth to press the matter, but a wave of chilled air rolled over the corridor, leading Narcissa to shiver.

"It isn't safe for you to visit me. Least of all while you're with child."

Narcissa stared at him, her eyes wide and her brows pulled tightly downward. She knew exactly what she was thinking. She'd had so much trouble with pregnancy already, without the hazard of exposure to the dementors. Part of her knew that he was right, but she was unwilling to entertain the idea of being kept away from him indefinitely.

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course I'm going to visit you."

"No." The word left Lucius's lips almost harshly, which he appeared to realize a moment late, attempting to smile at her. "There won't be a need, because I'll be out of here soon enough. And don't let Draco. He doesn't need to be subjected to this."

"Lucius, _please_ don't ask me to—"

"Narcissa. Promise me."

Frowning, she struggled for words for a long moment, and then she sighed, looking to him imploringly. "I can't."

Lucius inhaled deeply and let out the breath. "Fine. But for right now, you need to get home."

There were millions of things Narcissa wanted to say, but she could feel the atmosphere growing steadily colder as the dementors approached, and she knew she couldn't argue the point at hand. She needed to leave.

She stretched up on her toes to meet Lucius's lips. The two of them lingered there for only a moment, and then Narcissa pulled back.

"I'll see you soon, my love."

Lucius nodded, and Narcissa turned away, certain that leaving now was the most difficult thing she had ever had to do.


	7. Demands

Chapter Seven- Demands

"I thank you for inviting me into your home, this evening."

Narcissa bowed her head. She hadn't exactly had the option to refuse entry to the Dark Lord. He'd arrived unannounced and uninvited, and though the urge to slam the door in his face had swept over her the instant she'd seen him, she'd known it wasn't an option. Unfortunately.

She'd led him to the lounge, where she now sat on her favorite chaise, hoping that doing so would afford her a small amount of comfort when she knew this visit was going to end terribly for everyone involved. Draco sat in a chair nearby, and Bellatrix stood behind Narcissa, leaning over the chaise now and then as the Dark Lord spoke from where he sat in front of them, his arms draped over those of the chair as though it and the Manor belonged to him. Narcissa could feel her sister's excitement, and it made her stomach turn.

"It is our pleasure, My Lord," she said. She kept her expression carefully neutral, unwilling to let him know exactly how displeased she was to have him in her home.

"I have come to offer Draco the chance to prove his loyalty to me."

Narcissa watched as the Dark Lord turned his snake-like gaze on her son, and her hands tightened instinctively, her fingernails biting into her palms. Draco bowed his head.

"I would be honored, My Lord," he said.

"Should you succeed, Draco," said the Dark Lord, drumming his fingers against the wand lying in his lap, "you will forever earn your place with me, and all will be forgiven. This includes the failures of your father."

Draco looked up quickly, determination and excitement evident on his sharp features.

"I require you to eliminate someone for me."

Draco nodded, and Narcissa's heart sank. She was unprepared for her son to become a killer. _He's so young. So, so young._

"Whatever you ask of me, My Lord," said Draco.

"Good." The Dark Lord's lips twisted upward unpleasantly. "I require you to kill Albus Dumbledore."

The silence that followed was complete enough that Narcissa might've believed she had gone suddenly deaf. No one moved.

 _That's mad,_ she thought. _Dumbledore's too powerful for…_ Narcissa's face fell as she began to understand. Of course Dumbledore was too powerful for her sixteen-year-old son to kill singlehandedly.

The Dark Lord did not mean for Draco to succeed. He did not forgive. He intended to exact punishment for what he viewed as Lucius's failure by tasking Draco with a mission which he was almost certainly destined to fail.

He wanted Draco to be killed in the attempt.

Narcissa opened her mouth to beg him to reconsider—to let them repay him in some other way, to allow them a second chance. Before she could form the words, however, Draco rose from his chair and bowed deeply.

"I will not fail you, My Lord."

 _No… Not Draco. He can't take my son._

"Of course not," said the Dark Lord coolly. "Now I must speak with your mother. We have matters to discuss privately."

Draco glanced to Narcissa, and she gave him a stiff nod. It took her a moment to force words to form past her shock and horror. "Wait for us in the drawing room, will you, love?" she asked at last.

Looking somewhat dazed, Draco nodded. He strode quickly from the room.

 _I wonder if he realizes,_ thought Narcissa, _what he's just agreed to._

"Leave us, Bellatrix."

Narcissa didn't look to her sister to gauge her expression. She knew Bellatrix would be affronted at being asked to leave. As Narcissa had anticipated, however, Bellatrix did not argue. She departed without a word. When she found herself alone with the Dark Lord, Narcissa shifted her attention to a spot on the carpet between them as he stood from his chair and drifted toward the window.

"Your sister tells me you've received wonderful news, Narcissa."

She did not look up from the spot on the floor, and she said nothing. She was certain she knew exactly what he meant, but until he asked her directly, she would volunteer nothing to him. She owed him less than nothing.

"Are you or are you not expecting a child?"

Narcissa swallowed hard, attempting to rid herself of the lump in her throat. "I am," she said, her mouth going completely dry with the words.

"I offer you my congratulations." The Dark Lord's voice was smooth and cold, and as he spoke, Narcissa's mind ticked away at trying to unravel his motives for speaking to her on the matter. He was incapable of caring for anyone. She'd deduced this about him shortly after they'd met; she'd known enough sociopaths over the course of her life to recognize the signs, and she'd known that this was one of the thousands of reasons Lucius had been unable to dig his way out, even when he'd realized he'd been dragged in too deep with the Dark Lord's demands. Narcissa knew that if Lucius had displeased the Dark Lord, the latter would've felt absolutely no remorse for killing him.

This was why she knew the punishment was far from over.

"Thank you, My Lord."

"I look forward to adding your next son or daughter to my ranks alongside Draco."

"My Lord?" Narcissa repeated a bit sharply, unable to restrain herself. She looked up at him at last, her eyes wide as she met the snake-like ones watching her from beside the window. The Dark Lord smiled, and the expression more closely resembled a grimace or the mouth of a hyena as it laughed before striking its prey.

"Of course you were planning to offer your child's service to me, were you not?"

"I—My Lord, I've only just found out about—I haven't had the time to think about the future." Her breathing had become rapid and shallow, and though she knew it wasn't, she found herself wishing this was all some sort of cruel joke. She'd already lost her family to the man who stood before her. Because of the Dark Lord, Narcissa's husband was locked away surrounded by creatures who were slowly chipping away at his soul, and their son was slated for a death sentence due to his task of eliminating Albus Dumbledore, which was almost certainly doomed to failure. Just when she'd thought the Dark Lord could take no more from Narcissa, here he stood, asking for her unborn child.

She had never hated anyone more in her life than she hated this man.

"I understand," he said, nodding slowly as he stepped forward, moving closer. She felt frozen to the chaise, though she knew it was her own body's refusal to move that kept her there and not magic. _Not yet, at least,_ she thought bitterly. "I'm certain your thoughts have been more focused on the present and on the failures of the recent past. _Crucio._ "

Narcissa involuntarily drew in as much air as her lungs could hold, her body starting to release it in a scream that she choked back as she doubled over, gripping the seat of the chaise hard to keep herself from falling as pain surged through her body with the fury of lightning. She'd been paying too much attention to his face and keeping her own from showing emotion to notice when he'd raised his wand. She'd had practice dealing with this Curse, however, and she was not about to let him hear her scream. She'd learned from experience that doing so only led the person holding the wand to prolong the spell, or at least that was what had happened with her father, when he'd been drunk enough to take out his anger on his daughters with more than just his words. Narcissa hadn't felt the hell that was the Cruciatus Curse since before her marriage, but the reflexes she'd developed for dealing with it had begun to kick in the second the Dark Lord's spell had impacted her.

She lost track of how long she spent in agony, her body twisting against her best efforts to keep herself still. She did not, however, fall from her seat, and the little strained sounds that left her lips were not the screams that wanted so badly to burst from her lungs, for which she was indescribably grateful. The Dark Lord had taken enough without also gaining the satisfaction of observing the depth of her pain.

 _Please,_ she prayed silently, _let the baby be all right._

At last, the pain ceased, and she sat as stationary as she could manage as her shaky breaths rocked her shoulders. She kept her focus on the carpet beside the table.

"Your family has, as you've no doubt gathered, displeased me."

In her periphery, Narcissa saw the Dark Lord move toward her, pausing a few paces from the chaise on which she sat. She did not lift her eyes to look at him.

"Your husband pledged his services to me for the duration of his life. His mistakes have resulted in those services being unavailable at the present time, and they have also rendered a number of my other loyal followers temporarily useless. In repayment for this," the Dark Lord went on, moving closer still, "I will expect your full cooperation in anything I may ask of you and your children."

He gripped Narcissa's chin with a cold, pale hand and jerked it upward, forcing her to look at him. She struggled to keep her expression void of sentiment, but she doubted she'd managed to completely conceal her hatred.

"There are a number of ways to cause pain," the snake-like man said quietly, "and not all of them involve magic. I doubt you'll be surprised that I know quite a bit about you, Narcissa. I know what you fear. My Death Eaters do talk. Mr. Rowle was particularly forthcoming."

Narcissa held the Dark Lord's gaze unflinchingly. She would not show him fear, no matter what memories his words dragged to the surface of her thoughts.

"As I said, I expect your cooperation. Do we have an understanding?"

"Yes, My Lord."

"Good. Then you will have no reason to worry. And I expect that Draco will perform his task well."

Narcissa nodded. There was no mistaking the threat behind these words, were Draco to fail. The Dark Lord watched her for a moment more and then released his grip on her chin, turning away and sweeping from the lounge. Narcissa sat for several moments longer without moving, her mind and body in a state of shock after everything that had just transpired. She wanted to barricade herself in her chambers and crumble, but more than that, she wanted to be somewhere else. Anywhere else. While the Dark Lord could still be present somewhere in the Manor, Narcissa had no desire to remain on the premises.

She detested him even more—if possible—for making her fear to remain in her own home.

She rose from the chaise and started for the drawing room. Dwelling on what precisely the Dark Lord was threatening should she fail to comply with his wishes would do nothing to benefit her, and she needed no further reason for anxiety. Narcissa laid a hand on her stomach.

"We'll be fine, little one," she muttered.

How she wished she believed those words.

She paused in the doorway of the drawing room. Draco stood leaning against the opposite wall, his arms folded over his chest and his mouth set in a thin line. Bellatrix sat on the arm of a chair, her fingers drumming against her knee. Draco looked to Narcissa as she entered.

"How did it g—Mother, what happened?" He frowned. "Are you all right?"

Narcissa sighed. "Yes, love, I'm fine." She wasn't certain what outward indication she had given otherwise. Was she too pale? Had her hair fallen into disarray? She didn't care, apart from the fact that she had obviously done something to allow her son to see her pain, which she knew he didn't need, at the moment. She could see the panic in his eyes, try as he might to conceal it. "We're going to go visit Aunt Lara for a little while. Go and get your things together, please. We'll be staying overnight."

Draco nodded. His frown remained in place, but he neither argued nor questioned his mother further. She was certain he would ask her again later what had happened, but for the moment, she was grateful that he did not press her. She slid to the side in the doorway to allow him to pass on his way from the room, and then she was left alone with Bellatrix.

"Cissy, what did he do?"

Bellatrix stood and started toward her sister, but Narcissa shook her head firmly.

"Why did you tell him about the baby?"

Bellatrix paused, and her face fell. "It just slipped out. Why, did he—did he use it against you? Cissy?" Bellatrix stepped forward, reaching for her sister's hand. "I never meant—"

"It doesn't matter, Bella." Narcissa shook her head with a sigh. "What's done is done. We'll be back tomorrow."

"I can go with you."

"Don't. Please. I just… I need some time to think."

Narcissa knew her sister wouldn't have intentionally given the Dark Lord information he could use to hurt her, but Bellatrix was blinded by her devotion to her master, which often made her careless. At the moment, Narcissa needed to be around people whose loyalty to her was stronger than that which they held for the one responsible for her misery.

She gave her sister's hand a quick squeeze and then followed Draco from the room.


	8. Respite

**A/N: Warning for a flashback involving attempted sexual assault.**

* * *

Chapter Eight- Respite

"You didn't say anything, when he gave me my mission."

Narcissa watched Draco's face as they stood in the Mulcibers' foyer awaiting Lara. The confidence Draco had shown as he'd walked past Bellatrix on the way out of the Manor after collecting his things was nowhere to be found, now. Instead, he looked uncertain. Narcissa assumed he had finally allowed the weight of the task he'd been given to sink in and that he'd realized what she'd known almost instantly: the Dark Lord's plan was a terrible idea.

Narcissa didn't want her son to know exactly how deep her fears for him ran. She knew he was already hurting, and she didn't want to add to his pain by admitting that she believed he was in very real danger or that the Dark Lord wanted him to fail.

"I didn't know what to say," she told him instead. "You're so young, and you haven't been properly trained for something like this. I know you feel honored by what he's asked you do to, but—"

"I do," he said, cutting her off. "He believes in me, Mother. He thinks I can do this. Do you?"

Narcissa swallowed. "Of course I do. Draco, you're my son. I think you can do anything you apply yourself to and more." _I think you'll give it more effort than the Dark Lord deserves,_ she added mentally, _and damn him for putting you in this position._

Draco studied her, and as she stared at the grey of his eyes, she felt as though she were lying to Lucius at the same time. She felt the guilt of both lies, and she feared that Draco would see through her with the same ease his father would have.

If Draco recognized her lie, he did not comment on it. Instead, he sighed, looking to the floor for a moment before returning his focus to her.

"What did he want to talk to you about? What couldn't he say in front of Aunt Bella and me?"

"It was nothing," Narcissa said quickly, shaking her head. Draco opened his mouth, presumably to question her again, but Narcissa was spared the need for further lies by the entrance of her sister-in-law and Lara's two children. Narcissa smiled at them, both relieved to see familiar faces that were neither threatening nor in immediate danger and grateful for an opportunity to change the subject. "I'm so sorry to drop in on you like this, Lara," she said. "Normally, I wouldn't dream of stopping by without an invitation, but—"

"Nonsense. You're always welcome, here. I've told Elly to start preparing supper for all of us, if you two haven't eaten already." Lara inclined her head to Draco, resting a hand on the shoulder of each of the teenagers standing beside her. The boy's hair was dark like his father's, but the girl had inherited her blond locks from the Malfoy side. "Hannibal, Persephone, please make your cousin feel at home. We've guest rooms, if you're planning to stay," Lara added, looking to Narcissa and Draco again.

"Thank you," said Narcissa earnestly. She was touched more deeply by this kindness than she knew how to express. She had experienced so little of it lately that she'd almost forgotten what it felt like.

Lara nodded. "Go show Draco to a room, please, you two. We'll send for you when supper's ready."

Draco took a step forward to follow his cousins as they departed, and Narcissa reached out to catch his arm, leaning close to speak into his ear.

"Don't mention anything about—"

"I won't," he muttered. Without another word, he followed Hannibal and Persephone from the room.

"Come on, dear," said Lara, holding out her arm to Narcissa, her eyes sympathetic. Narcissa sighed internally and took her sister-in-law's arm, allowing herself to be led to the drawing room and to the white chair she frequented. She expected Lara to take the seat beside her, but instead, the other woman sat on the arm of Narcissa's chair, taking both of her hands. "Now tell me what's happening," she said.

"We just didn't feel like being home, at the moment."

"Because of Bellatrix?"

Narcissa shook her head, and then she paused, tipping it to the side. "In a manner of speaking. She didn't exactly help." When Lara frowned and showed no indication of giving up on the matter, Narcissa resigned herself to admitting what had transpired. She was thoroughly tired of lying, though she knew she wasn't likely to be able to stop it, anytime soon. "The Dark Lord stopped by," she said at last.

Lara's eyes narrowed, and her typically-kind face took on a severity more often seen on her brother, when he was provoked. Narcissa found herself wishing she didn't feel as though she were being stabbed every time someone or something reminded her of Lucius. He'd only been gone for a few weeks, but as that was longer than they'd been apart since before their marriage, it felt to her like much, much longer.

She couldn't imagine how he would react, if he knew what the Dark Lord had done to her and what he had threatened for the future.

"What happened?" asked Lara, pulling Narcissa's thoughts more firmly into the present. "And don't bother telling me 'nothing,' because you wouldn't be trembling, if that were the case."

 _She really is quite a bit like him._

"He wants Draco to join the Death Eaters," said Narcissa with a sigh. "He's decided Draco's first task will be to commit murder, and he informed me that I'm to cooperate with everything he asks of our family, because he knows exactly what I fear and that there are ways to inflict pain that don't involve magic."

* * *

 _The house was filled with people, but they were too far away to hear her, if she screamed. He'd led her away from the party and into a deserted corridor under the pretense of conversation, and she'd realized too late that she should've known better. He'd never valued her opinions_ — _what would he have possibly wanted to discuss? She felt so stupid._

 _"Let go of me. I swear, Thorfinn, if you don't get away from me right now, I'll—"_

 _"You'll what?" Thorfinn Rowle grinned, pressing her arm harder against the wall with his elbow as the connected hand reached for one of the ties of her bodice to give it a tug and the other hand gripped her hip roughly. "You'll be married to me soon, if your mother has her way, so I'd watch how you answer that. It's your job to—"_

 _"Let me_ go _!"_

 _She stomped hard on his foot, the heel of her shoe digging in deeply, and he let out a pained hiss, his grip slacking for an instant she used to rip her arm from his grasp. His dark eyes met hers, then, alive with fury. He used his now-empty hand to reach for his wand, and she took advantage of the instant's distraction to punch him as forcefully as she could manage in the nose. As he stumbled backward, he pulled hard at her dress, and she felt it slide slightly out of place due to his loosening of her ties._

 _He flicked the wrist with which he held his wand. A sickeningly sharp pain seared across her right thigh, and she heard her skirt rip, but she ignored it, dodging his hands when he grabbed for her and running down the corridor as quickly as her legs would carry her._

* * *

Narcissa blinked away the memory, reminding herself that it had happened long ago and could do nothing to hurt her, now. She still bore the scar from that spell, but thankfully, it had been the only one she'd sustained.

She wondered exactly what Rowle had told the Dark Lord.

"He told me that," she went on, forcing herself to focus on the fact that it was neither of them sitting before her but Lara, whom she trusted, "after he'd already used the Cruciatus Curse on me, which was about as pleasant as you can imagine."

Lara drew in a sharp breath. "Are you all right? What about the baby? That can't be good for either of you, Cissy."

"We're fine." Narcissa hoped with all of her being that this was true. She couldn't bear the idea of her child sharing the pain she'd been forced to endure, and anything worse than that would not so much as form as a thought in her mind.

For a long moment, silence filled the drawing room. Narcissa had no desire to offer more information as to what had gone on with the Dark Lord; the sooner she could put the meeting from her mind, the better it would be for her mental state, and she didn't wish to dump more of a burden on Lara with further knowledge when Narcissa already felt that she was imposing on her sister-in-law's hospitality.

"Well," said Lara at last, "we're going to get you supper, and you're going to take it easy, tonight, whether you want to or not."

Narcissa nodded. "Thank you. Lara… Mathias was in Azkaban for quite a long time, wasn't he?"

Lara's face fell, and Narcissa mentally chastised herself for asking. She had reason for bringing up the subject, but she regretted it, all the same.

"Fifteen years, yes," said Lara, "until he got out last year. And now he's back. I was in your situation, too, you know, though not for quite as long—Persephone was born two months after he was arrested, the first time."

"Did you visit him?" asked Narcissa.

"As often as they'd allow me." Lara nodded. "And when I couldn't, I sent him letters."

"They let you write him?" Narcissa's eyes widened. She hadn't considered this possibility. She'd expected the Ministry to completely sever all forms of communication between its prisoners and the outside world.

"Yes. He said the letters always looked like they'd been opened by the time they reached him, so I'm certain someone inspected them first, but we wrote one another."

For the first time since before Lucius had left for the Department of Mysteries, Narcissa allowed herself to feel a shard of hope. She smiled. Lara, watching her, appeared to understand.

"That could be exactly what you need, right now. Follow me."

She slid to her feet, and Narcissa did the same, following close behind as Lara led her to a room on the house's second floor where a light-colored wooden desk sat against the far wall and a tawny owl rested on its perch in the corner near an open window.

"Take as much time as you need."

Lara closed the door as she departed, and Narcissa was left alone. She crossed the room silently to settle into the chair at the desk, reaching into the drawer for a piece of parchment and a quill. She stared at the blank page before her for several moments and wondered exactly what to say. If Aurors were going to intercept the letter, she didn't want to give any information that could potentially be used against her or against Lucius. She had to choose her words carefully. After careful deliberation, she began to write.

* * *

 _My Lucius—_

 _I will do the best I can to honor your wish that I stay away from Azkaban at the present time if you'll promise to write me as often as you're able. Your sister tells me that she and Mathias were able to correspond through owl post, and I think this could be exactly what we need. Things are becoming worse out here by the day. I feel like I'm going mad, and talking with you is the only way I'll be able to keep anything resembling my sanity. Draco and I are staying with Lara for the night, and she's told me to take as long as I need, but I'm afraid she's delaying supper for me, and I feel that I've already asked too much of her by being here. When I'm home, I'll be able to write much longer letters and remind you of every reason you have to remain hopeful despite how dark things look at the moment. Please stay strong and know that I'm thinking of you all the time._

 _My love always,_

 _Narcissa_

* * *

She wiped away the drop of moisture that had fallen from her eye to land beside her signature, and she attached the letter to the tawny owl's leg, sending it off through the window before leaning against the ledge to collect herself.

"Everything's going to be fine," she breathed. "We're going to be fine."

She turned away from the window and made her way downstairs. Though she was far too anxious and tense to be hungry, she knew she should eat something, for the sake of the baby.

 _There might be nothing I can do to help Lucius or Draco, at the moment_ , she thought, _but at least I can help this little one. If I can hold on to that, maybe everything else will seem just a little less awful._


	9. The Black Sisters

Chapter Nine- The Black Sisters

 _Narcissa,_

 _I cannot accurately describe how wonderful it was to receive your letter. Remaining hopeful is difficult. At first, I focused easily on pleasant memories to keep my mind from the dementors, but the longer I'm here, the harder it becomes to bring anything happy to mind. It has only been a few weeks since I arrived, but it feels much, much longer. I promise to write as often as I can—though I wonder whether the Aurors will actually see that this is delivered to you. Your letter had been opened before it reached me, which was a gross misuse of power._

 _I hope you know that asking you not to visit was the last thing I wanted to do, and the idea of not being able to see or touch you is a worse punishment than the rest of this mess. We'll have letters, now, at least, and that will be enough to make certain that I have something positive to focus on while I'm here. Thank you for agreeing to stay safe. Please keep me apprised of what's happening at home, and give my love to Draco and Lara._

 _Yours always,_

 _Lucius x_

* * *

"Hmmph. Not a mention of me."

Narcissa had been too absorbed in her rereading of the letter for what must've been the thirtieth time to notice that her sister had approached and paused behind her chair. She blushed as she realized that Bellatrix had been reading over her shoulder.

"Bella…" Narcissa shook her head. She'd returned with Draco from the Mulcibers' after breakfast, and since they'd been within Malfoy Manor once again, Narcissa and Bellatrix had spoken very little. Bellatrix had been in the room she'd been given in which to stay for most of the day, and Narcissa had begun to wonder if her sister was avoiding her. If she had been, those efforts appeared to have been abandoned, now.

"I'm only teasing you, Cissy." Bellatrix rolled her eyes, dropping into the closest seat to her sister's and drumming her fingers against the chair's arm with what looked to Narcissa like a combination of boredom and agitation.

Narcissa watched her sister carefully. Bellatrix resembled a time bomb ready to explode if her sister were to say the wrong thing. Narcissa knew Bellatrix hated being trapped within the Manor; even in childhood, the eldest Black sister had never enjoyed remaining in one place for what she deemed too long when she could've been accomplishing something elsewhere. It was for her safety and continued freedom from arrest that she remained here, though she was clearly not enjoying it.

"I know," said Narcissa after a brief pause. "But I wish you'd ease up on him."

Bellatrix frowned. She inhaled deeply and let out the breath in a sigh. "Contrary to what you may believe, I don't exactly… _hate_ your husband."

"You certainly make it seem that way."

"You think I wanted someone I learned Unforgivable Curses with marrying my little sister?" Bellatrix snapped.

Narcissa stared at her. _Is that it?_ she thought. _Is that why she's been so antagonistic toward him for so long? Does she think I'm in danger?_ Narcissa doubted that was the entire reason for her sister's behavior. She'd seen Bellatrix and Lucius struggle for power on more than one occasion, even over simple things such as seating placement at dinners—she recalled Bellatrix making a point to take the chair belonging to Lucius on her first morning at the Manor, and she realized belatedly that it had likely been a continuation of a fight started fifteen-odd years earlier, before Bellatrix's imprisonment. Narcissa imagined the bickering between the two only became worse when wands and orders were involved.

"Lucius would never hurt me," she said, shaking her head. Though she had questioned many other things in the last several weeks, she knew that much to be true beyond all doubt.

"Not intentionally. He does love you," said Bellatrix, and it sounded to Narcissa that the words were borderline painful for her sister to say. "But look at what's happened. You _are_ hurting—I can see it clearly, even when you refuse to talk to me and run off to Lara instead. You're suffering because you're with him and now he's in Azkaban for Merlin-knows-how-long. I never wanted that for you."

"What about when you were in Azkaban for more than a decade?"

Silence dropped like lead over the room, and the two women stared at one another. The words had been threatening to burst from Narcissa's lips since her sister had escaped from the prison roughly a year previously, but she'd always managed to hold them back until now. How dare Bellatrix fault Lucius for being taken away from Narcissa when she'd allowed the same to happen to herself so many years before?

"You think I wanted to be locked up?" asked Bellatrix, scowling.

"Didn't you?" Narcissa challenged. "I was at your trial, Bella. You didn't even _try_ to defend yourself. Your loyalty has always been to the Dark Lord, and you were willing to go to Azkaban for him."

"Of course I was! I dedicated my life to serving him, and I knew that when he freed us, we would be rewarded for our loyalty—Rodolphus and Rabastan and _me_! I've earned that reward, Narcissa! That doesn't mean I _wanted_ to spend half my life in prison! I had no idea how long I was going to be there, and—"

"But you didn't think about any of that, did you?" Narcissa pressed. Bellatrix had leaned forward in her chair, her voice rising with the passion she channeled into her words, but Narcissa forced her own tone to remain as calm as she could manage in order to keep her emotions under her control. She'd shed entirely too many tears, lately, and she didn't want to seem weak to this woman who had faced the prospect of life in prison while sitting in her sentencing chair as though it were a throne. "You didn't consider that the Dark Lord could've left you there. Or if he hadn't returned—"

"I knew he would return!"

"But you were willing to take your chances, if he didn't." Narcissa laid Lucius's letter on the table beside her in order to keep herself from damaging it, as her other hand had already tightened reflexively on the arm of her chair until her knuckles had turned white. "Lucius was willing to lie for you, to protect you. He tried to tell the Ministry you'd acted under the Imperius Curse, and when you made it perfectly clear that you'd acted of your own volition, it almost destroyed his credibility. I almost lost both of you, right then. I would've been here with my year-old son while the two people I love most apart from him were taken away. Don't you see that, Bella? Don't you see that you chose the Dark Lord over me fifteen years ago?"

The anger slowly drained from Bellatrix's face, replaced over the moments that followed with shock and—Narcissa's stomach twisted at the sight, and she wished immediately that she hadn't said a word on the subject—pain. She opened her mouth, prepared to apologize for getting carried away. She'd meant every word, but normally, she never would've said any of it aloud. She'd been trained by their parents to keep her feelings to herself when they ran the risk of slightly inconveniencing someone else, and though she'd worked for years to deprogram herself of this mentality, this time, she wished she'd obeyed what Cygnus and Druella had tried to force on her so long ago.

Before she could take anything back, however, Bellatrix spoke.

"That's why you talk to Lara and not me, isn't it?"

Narcissa sighed, relaxing her grip on the chair arms. The fight had all but gone out of her, for the moment, and she simply felt tired. "It's why I didn't feel like I could tell you what happened, when you and Draco left me alone with the Dark Lord."

"I…" Bellatrix frowned, looking down at her knees for a moment as she worked at the words she wanted to convey. "I never looked at it like a choice," she said at last, her focus shifting to Narcissa once more. "That's never what it was, to me—at least not a choice between him and you. I chose to serve him, but I never wanted to hurt you. I knew I might not get out again, but though I ignored what Lucius was trying to do to get me freed, I knew he was going to be out here with you. That you'd be safe. It never crossed my mind that it would matter if I wasn't part of that."

"Of course it mattered, Bella." Despite her best efforts to keep her tears away, Narcissa felt them starting to form. "You're my sister, and I love you."

Bellatrix watched Narcissa for a moment, and then she stood, closing the remaining distance between them to lean down and embrace her. The gesture felt awkward physically, as though it had been years since Bellatrix had attempted anything like it, but the sentiment was clear, and Narcissa held to her tightly.

"I love you, too," Bellatrix muttered. "Now are you going to tell me what happened?"

Narcissa shook her head, leaning back to meet her sister's gaze, and Bellatrix straightened to her full height as she stood beside the chair.

"Why on Earth not?"

"I don't want to think about it," said Narcissa. "But I give you my word that if something else happens, you'll be the first one I tell, if that's what you want."

Bellatrix sighed and nodded, frowning slightly. She didn't appear thrilled by the answer, but she wasn't arguing, which was progress, in Narcissa's opinion.

"Will you at least tell me if that one's okay?" asked Bellatrix, pointing toward Narcissa's stomach.

"Perfectly fine."

Bellatrix nodded again, and then she yawned.

"Go rest, Bella," said Narcissa. "We'll talk more later." She drew the letter back into her lap. After her sister had gone, she planned to begin planning her reply.

Bellatrix started toward the door, gesturing to the letter as she walked. "Tell him I would've liked a 'hello.'"

"I will."

As Bellatrix left the room, Narcissa looked down at the letter she held once more, a faint smile on her lips.


	10. Spinner's End

**A/N:** **I apologize for how much of this chapter comes from HBP. The timelines need to overlap, and this is the only scene in the series focusing so heavily on Narcissa, so there wasn't much room for embellishment apart from her thoughts. I try to go into her reasoning to make up for that, and the next chapter will go back to deviating from what we're shown in the series.**

* * *

Chapter Ten- Spinner's End

Several days passed in which Narcissa weighed her options. She didn't want to allow Draco to embark on a mission so potentially disastrous as the one with which he had been tasked, though she knew he had no choice. It bothered her deeply that her son didn't appear to see the danger he was in, whether he succeeded or failed. If he managed to kill Dumbledore, either the Ministry or the Order of the Phoenix would see him arrested or worse, and if he failed, he would be at Dumbledore's mercy. Given the longstanding ill-will between Dumbledore and Lucius, Narcissa didn't believe entrusting Draco's safety to the Headmaster was at all wise.

Shortly after he'd given the order, the Dark Lord had passed on the knowledge through Bellatrix that Draco's task was to be kept a secret.

 _"He seemed quite surprised you didn't fill me in on it already,"_ Bellatrix had said, frowning, _"and he told me everything about what's supposed to happen. But we aren't to tell another soul. He was clear about that."_

 _"Yes,"_ Narcissa had said, fighting the urge to roll her eyes, _"of course he was."_

The Dark Lord was _always_ clear about what he wanted. It didn't matter if one disagreed with him, because his word was law. Therefore, in her letters to Lucius, Narcissa gave few details about what had been asked of their son. She used terms such as "our friend" to describe the man who was moving them all like pieces on a chessboard and "thinks Draco shows great promise" as a euphemism for the more accurate "wants to use Draco to punish us." She didn't want the Aurors shoving their noses in her family's business more than they already were by perusing the letters, and she didn't want to endanger Lucius further by giving the Dark Lord another reason to be angry with him. The less he knew about things that were supposed to be kept secret, the better it would be.

Still, though, even with limited information, Lucius had deduced enough to begin allowing panic to trickle into his writing, and it was clear to Narcissa that he was sitting in his cell thinking too much about the problems outside and blaming himself for them. He didn't need these issues on his conscience when he was surely already suffering. Though Narcissa wanted him to believe she'd done the right thing by letting him know part of what was happening, she regretted mentioning anything at all.

As she sat across from her sister in an armchair, Narcissa contemplated what she could do to rectify the situation or at least set it on a path to improvement. She herself would be powerless to assist her son in his task, as it would have to take place after he'd returned to school. He hadn't yet begun his training, and she knew he had a long path ahead before he was anywhere near ready to attempt this mission. She wondered momentarily whether the Dark Lord would allow Draco to complete his training or whether he would deliberately send the boy off before he'd had the chance to learn at least enough to properly defend himself. At the risk of becoming angrier, Narcissa redirected her thoughts.

If she could not be present to help Draco, who could? Who, that was, out of the slim number of people she trusted?

"We can't let him do this alone," she said, more to herself than to Bellatrix. Still, the elder sister glanced to the younger with a brow raised.

"What is it you imagine you can do?"

Narcissa rolled her eyes. _What an impressive level of confidence you have in me, Bella,_ she thought. "I don't recall saying I would be the one to do it," she said instead.

"Then what are you suggesting?"

Narcissa looked away, considering. The majority of the people she would've turned to for help eliminating someone were imprisoned alongside her husband, and she knew Bellatrix would never intervene in a task the Dark Lord wanted performed in a specific manner. The only other person she could think of who was free… would be absolutely perfect.

"Who better to help Draco," said Narcissa slowly, "than someone who will be with him throughout the entire year at Hogwarts? Someone who can teach him what he doesn't learn before he leaves and who can protect him if things go wrong?"

"Someone at Hogwarts?" repeated Bellatrix flatly. "Who…? No. You're not suggesting… Narcissa, that's a dreadful idea." Narcissa looked to her sister once more to find that Bellatrix was frowning, her dark eyes wide.

"Lucius trusts Severus. That's good enough for me."

" _Cissy!_ Snape is a _traitor!_ " Bellatrix's voice was incredulous, and she shook her head strongly enough to send her hair flying around her as though it were caught in a particularly violent storm. "He betrayed us to the Order, and he—"

"He's also Draco's teacher and Head of House, and it wouldn't be at all obvious to Dumbledore that something was going on if the two of them were to be seen speaking." The idea only made more sense to Narcissa the longer she spoke of it, and though Bellatrix seemed to grow more panicked and offended with each word, Narcissa only grew more confident.

"You're not seriously considering mentioning this to _Snape?_ " Bellatrix demanded. "Of all people!"

"Who would be better? Can you tell me that?"

Bellatrix was silent. Narcissa nodded in satisfaction and stood, grabbing her cloak and pulling it onto her shoulders.

"Wait! You're being ridiculous! You can't go now!"

"I can't?" Narcissa scoffed, fastening her cloak. "Watch me."

She Disapparated.

Narcissa reappeared along the edge of a river dirtier than any body of water she'd ever seen previously, and within an instant of materializing, she doubled over, closing her eyes and struggling to return her breathing to normal. The sensation of Apparating was unsettling enough without the added discomfort of nausea. Narcissa had become well-practiced at Apparition over the years, but using this method of transportation while she was expecting had not been one of her better ideas. She remained still for only a few moments, though, forcing herself to move as soon as she could and keeping her steps quick as she drew her cloak tighter around herself. Her sister, she knew, would be pursuing her.

Just as she'd anticipated, the _pop_ of Bellatrix's arrival followed soon after her own, but Narcissa did not turn back. She started up the riverbank, doing her best to ignore the stench of the disused, thrown-out items littering the grass as she moved. At the edge of her vision, she saw a flash of green light timed with what sounded like the cry of some helpless creature. She clenched her jaw, trying hard not to dwell on the violence Bellatrix insisted upon, and focused on keeping herself steady as she climbed up the steep bank.

"Just a fox. I thought perhaps an Auror—Cissy, wait! Cissy—Narcissa—listen to me—"

Narcissa felt her sister's tight grip on her arm, and she pulled it away, glaring. "Go back, Bella!" she instructed.

"You must listen to me!" insisted Bellatrix, her eyes wild.

"I've listened already. I've made my decision. Leave me alone!"

Narcissa hurried onward, pausing at the top of the bank to take in the street before her. She was almost too deep in thought to notice when Bellatrix paused beside her, The houses were so old and poorly-maintained that they looked as though they might fall in on themselves at any moment, and as she stood watching them in the dark of night with the putrid stench of the river assaulting her nose, Narcissa considered exactly how far she had departed from the shelter and decadence of Malfoy Manor. The night was chilly and damp, and had she not been absolutely desperate to acquire help for her son, she would've been safe within her home, blissfully unaware of the discomfort of this place.

She shook away these thoughts and passed through a space between the railings guarding the river, starting across the street and ignoring the complaints of her sister about their location. If Bellatrix thought Narcissa truly wanted to be here, she was mistaken. But Narcissa had seen no other option. She wasn't going to allow Draco to suffer and do nothing to help him, not while there was still breath in her body.

Narcissa hurried through alleyways and along streets beneath broken lamps and away from Bellatrix until the elder sister caught up with the younger at last, hauling her around by her arm to demand her attention.

"Cissy, you must not do this, you can't trust him—"

"The Dark Lord trusts him, doesn't he?" demanded Narcissa.

"The Dark Lord is… I believe… mistaken."

Had Narcissa not heard the words with her own ears, she wouldn't have believed her sister capable of speaking them.

"In any case," Bellatrix pressed on, "we were told not to speak of the plan to anyone. This is a betrayal of the Dark Lord's—"

"Let go, Bella!" Narcissa snarled. She didn't give a damn about betraying the Dark Lord's trust, after everything he had done. He'd resurfaced after longer than a decade to demand her family's loyalty and, after little more than a year, had proceeded to get Lucius imprisoned, torture Narcissa, and coerce Draco into a suicide mission. Narcissa raised her wand, directing it at her sister's face. She'd never used force against Bellatrix, but the other woman's blind loyalty to the man who was singlehandedly dismantling their family was infuriating to Narcissa.

Bellatrix laughed. "Cissy, your own sister? You wouldn't—"

"There is nothing I wouldn't do anymore!"

And it was true. She hadn't admitted it to herself even in her mind until now, but her desperation had reached a point she'd never before experienced. She'd always been willing to do literally anything for Draco, but this new state reached far beyond that. Hexing her sister would do nothing to help her son, but Narcissa's rage had escalated to a degree that she no longer cared. Hexing Bellatrix would potentially make Narcissa feel better and give her an outlet for the frustration that she harbored for her sister's inability to see reason, even if it served no higher purpose.

Narcissa slashed her wand through the air, casting a nonverbal curse she hoped would force her sister to release her. Bellatrix did so, pulling her arm back and cradling it with the same look she might've worn if Narcissa had suddenly sprouted another limb. Narcissa turned away and hurried off down the street, telling herself as she moved that she shouldn't regret what she'd done but not entirely believing the words. _It's still worlds milder than what Bella would've done,_ she thought, but this was of no comfort to her.

" _Narcissa!_ "

 _Go away. Let me be. I can handle this on my own._

Narcissa hurtled down the final street—the one she knew led to the house for which she'd been searching. When she reached the threshold, she knocked, and then she could only wait. Bellatrix fell in at her side, and several moments passed before the door opened slightly. Narcissa recognized the man within by the slim portion of him she could see through the opening—Severus Snape, made unmistakable by his ashen complexion and his long, dark hair—and she lowered her hood to allow him to recognize her, as well. His eyes widened as he scanned her face, and then he pushed open the door.

"Narcissa! What a pleasant surprise!"

"Severus," said Narcissa quietly. "May I speak to you? It's urgent."

"But of course."


	11. Photographs

**A/N: Sorry for the delay. College is a minor catastrophe.**

* * *

Chapter Eleven- Photographs

Narcissa stared out over Malfoy Manor's grounds through a window in the master bedroom, watching as a light rain began to fall. She counted her blessings that the poor weather had held off until she'd returned to the house. Several minutes earlier, she'd finished walking a perimeter around the property to place an array of protective charms over her home, including those to preclude Apparition within the charms' boundaries. As she lowered the curtain, she turned away from the window, making her way to the dresser, where she'd left the letter she'd received early that morning.

* * *

 _Narcissa,_

 _It's only been weeks, but it feels much, much longer. I haven't seen sunlight since I arrived, apart from what fits through the window in my cell that's roughly the size of my hand. Whatever it is they try to pass off as food here certainly isn't, and I feel so much worse after eating it that I wish I hadn't at all. I'm honestly surprised they're allowing us to correspond, but it may be the only thing that's keeping me sane. You haven't mentioned Draco in the last several letters—that worries me, Cissy. It's not at all like you. If he's in some sort of trouble, tell me what's happening. I can do very little from here, but I don't want you to have to deal with everything alone._

 _If you wouldn't mind, please mention something in your next letter about a memory or two that I can have in writing, just in case it gets more difficult to recall happier days than it is now. Things are already beginning to become hazy. In return, I just want you to remember how much I love you and to remain strong. Any type of precaution you can take at the moment would be highly advisable—remember the desk._

 _Yours always,_

 _Lucius x_

* * *

Narcissa had read through the letter several times, trying to absorb everything. Her heart ached at the thought of the conditions in which Lucius was stranded—could it be legal to feed people so poorly and deprive them of sunlight?—and the idea that the proximity of the dementors made it difficult for him to remember anything remotely pleasant. She couldn't imagine how much worse things would become, the longer he remained in Azkaban. After less than two months, he was already beginning to forget portions of life outside the prison's walls.

How the hell had Bellatrix survived entrapment there for so many years? Narcissa would've asked her sister this, if Bellatrix were not currently sulking around Malfoy Manor in the way Narcissa might've expected of a small child who had been disciplined for the first time in her life.

 _I made the right choice,_ thought Narcissa, shaking her head in admonishment of her sister's behavior, though Bellatrix wasn't near enough to see the gesture. The elder Black sister had made no effort to hide her disapproval of the younger woman's decision to consult Severus Snape for assistance. Narcissa knew Bellatrix's disagreement was based solely on her loyalty to the Dark Lord and what she saw as a betrayal of his cause—and, admittedly, his direct order not to speak of the task he had assigned to Draco. Even if Narcissa had still possessed loyalty to the Dark Lord—if it had not been completely obliterated by the circumstances and the man's behavior toward her family and herself—she would've found this command difficult to obey. Draco's safety was her priority, and despite her sister's attempts to derail the conversation at Spinner's End by insulting Severus and belittling his worth to their cause, Narcissa had managed to win. She had initiated an Unbreakable Vow; Severus had agreed under pain of death to protect Draco after the boy returned to school and, if it appeared that Draco would be unable to perform his mission, Severus had agreed to do so. The knot that Narcissa had believed was on its way to becoming a permanent fixture within her chest had begun to loosen, and though she now found herself indescribably indebted to Snape, she couldn't recall the last time she'd felt more relieved.

She glanced up from the letter to her reflection in the mirror above the dresser, and she found herself wondering exactly when she'd become the kind of woman who would ask a friend to make a vow that, if broken, would cost that friend his life. She told herself—as she had several times a day since her visit to Spinner's End—that it would never come to something so awful. Either Draco would succeed or Severus would in his place. As Narcissa sighed, she watched her reflection's shoulders sink slightly with her breath. Her face was as pale, smooth, and high-cheekboned as it had ever been, but the dark circles beneath her eyes were becoming too pronounced to be concealed by cosmetics. She wondered momentarily whether she would have to begin using magic to hide the evidence of her sleepless nights, and then she pressed her red lips into a firm line as she decided she didn't care what she had to do; she would keep the public under the impression that she was not steadily losing her grasp on everything she held dear. Of course not.

She was not broken.

She blinked away these thoughts and lowered her gaze to the letter once more, returning her focus to its last full sentence. These words had taken her the longest to riddle out. What precautions had Lucius meant, and what on earth did the desk have to do with anything? After reading the letter a few more times, she had understood: he meant the desk in his study, where he'd informed her years earlier that he'd kept contingency plans for many eventualities, including everything from family wills to where certain items were to be hidden during Ministry raids to things he wanted her to have and know if ever they were separated for longer than they should be for one of his tasks for the Dark Lord.

Within one of the drawers, she'd found a book of protective spells. A folded note had marked a page instructing the reader on how to erect an anti-Apparition field and had borne the pages of several other relevant charms which Narcissa had decided to cast, as well. Now that the shield was in place, she felt much safer than she had since Lucius's arrest. She was still far from at ease, but this, at least, was something. No one could burst directly into the house or grounds; if someone wanted to bother her family, that person would have needed to enter through the gates and take the path to the house, and with the charms Narcissa had put in place to warn her of anyone's approach, she believed she would have sufficient warning to ensure that everyone remained safe.

This left one portion of Lucius's letter still to be addressed.

Narcissa carried the letter with her—she found it increasingly difficult to part with anything she had to remind her of her husband, which often led to her keeping his correspondences close for several hours after receiving them and she was able to persuade herself that she was being ridiculous—and made her way to her bedside table, producing from it a large photo album. As she settled onto the bed, she laid the letter beside her and opened the album over her lap, allowing herself to recall the last time she'd perused its pages, when she'd been sitting in precisely the same spot.

* * *

 _The day had been a long one; the new elf had been trained vastly less than had the last, and though she was trying hard, Narcissa had still had to correct her several times while considering how lucky Prim was that Lucius hadn't been the one at home with her. In sorting through things in one of the less-used rooms, Narcissa had also stumbled across an old image of herself with both of her sisters, which had led to her locking herself in that room for a few hours as memories of the girls she'd grown up alongside had flooded her mind. She had done her best not to think about them often, with Bellatrix imprisoned and Andromeda somewhere far away and unreachable. The three had been inseparable as children and as teenagers, and now, Narcissa found herself without two of the people she'd trusted most._

 _Another of these people had found her where she'd secluded herself after returning home from work at the Ministry. Lucius had listened to Narcissa's rambling about her sisters for a considerable length of time before gently suggesting they look through more pleasant memories, and they'd returned together to their room to examine the album Lara had given them at their wedding to fill with images of their family._

 _"I remember that," said Lucius, leaning over to examine an image on the page lying more directly in front of Narcissa. "The first time we took Draco shopping in Diagon Alley. He was much too young for a wand, but he wanted to go in Ollivander's anyway and mess with them so he could be just like Mum and Dad."_

 _Narcissa laughed. "Ollivander almost had us banned for life, but then you assured him you'd cover the repairs. I don't think he believed you until you left a sack of Galleons on his desk on the way out." She turned the page, and her eye was caught by a moving image of a nearly-twelve-year-old Draco zipping through the front lawn on a broomstick while Lucius chased after him rather unsuccessfully. "Training him for the Quidditch team."_

 _"I knew he was destined to play," said Lucius, smiling. "Didn't I tell you?"_

 _"You did." Narcissa nodded. "What you didn't tell me was how often he would injure himself in the process of learning the game…"_

 _Lucius shrugged. "I assumed you knew," he said, wrapping an arm around Narcissa's waist and pulling her closer. "You came to enough of my matches to see how dangerous they could be."_

 _"Yes, but—"_

 _"But nothing." He chuckled and leaned in to kiss her softly, and she couldn't stop herself from smiling at the touch of his lips. "At least I didn't injure anyone else while playing. Draco, though…" Lucius glanced back to the image on the page, and as Narcissa followed his gaze, a vivid flash of being knocked over by a young Draco passed through her mind, and she rolled her eyes._

 _"He almost broke the camera," she said. "And me."_

 _"Oh… you might be exaggerating just slightly."_

 _Narcissa elbowed Lucius in the ribs, and he let out a teasing "Ow" before reaching out to adjust the album to sit between the two of them, one side resting against either of their legs._

 _"The Quidditch World Cup," he said, pointing to an image in which they stood with Draco beside their seats in the top box._

 _Narcissa leaned her head on her husband's shoulder, and his arm tightened around her waist. It wasn't often the three of them were able to go out and enjoy themselves; Draco was typically away at school and Lucius at the Ministry. Narcissa then recalled that another large portion of the blame for her family's inability to spend much time out together could be placed on what else had happened at that particular sporting event, and her face fell slightly._

" _There were so many damned stairs," Lucius went on, "it's a wonder no one got hurt."_

Not by the stairs, _Narcissa thought, but she didn't plan to ruin the moment by saying something like this aloud._

" _I don't remember who took this," she said instead._

" _It was Fudge. It's a wonder the man knew how to work the camera, but still."_

* * *

Now, as she ran her hands over the familiar photographs, she took care to trace the places Lucius had touched, wanting to keep the memory as vivid as possible in her mind as she began to search through endless pages of other moments in their lives. Certainly she could find something of which to remind him in order to lift his spirits.

Near the front of the book, she found an image of a group of teenagers in Slytherin robes. She herself stood between Lucius and Lara—who attempted to shove one another behind Narcissa's back, their motions partially captured by the enchanted image—and the three were located near the center of a larger group comprised of their dorm-mates and friends and members of the Quidditch team. As Narcissa surveyed the faces, she realized the majority of these people were now either imprisoned, had been killed, or had long-since fallen out of contact with her family. She pulled the photo from the album and laid it aside, making a mental note to track down those people about whose fates she was uncertain.

She turned the page, and she was greeted by an image of herself in a long, white gown, smiling brightly beside an equally-excited Lucius in exquisitely-tailored dress-robes. He and Narcissa had known how undignified such unhidden shows of happiness would be considered by the Pureblood community at large, but she had wanted at least one wedding photo in which they weren't attempting to look somber for the sake of propriety, and though they hadn't been able to flaunt this image in front of their parents, it had become the pair's personal favorite of the photos taken on the day of the ceremony.

Narcissa slipped the image out of its sleeve and set the album aside, climbing off the bed to return to the dresser, where she'd left her reply to Lucius's latest letter. In her response, Narcissa had insisted that Draco was perfectly fine. She had no intention of worrying Lucius with the task the Dark Lord had allotted to their son, particularly when Lucius was already having such trouble clinging to positivity. She picked up the quill she'd left out and added a sentence to her letter's final paragraph before slipping it into the envelope along with the photograph.

* * *

 _I love you as much as I did when this was taken, and I will be here when you return and as long as I live._


	12. Raid

Chapter Twelve- Raid

A sharp rapping at the front doors drew the collective attention of everyone seated around the table. Narcissa glanced first to Draco and then to Bellatrix, wondering who would be bothering them so early in the morning. Prim hadn't even managed to bring out breakfast, and yet someone saw fit to bother them.

The knocking came again, this time harder, more insistent. Narcissa ran through the list of people who might've decided to visit in her mind, and she could think of no one who would be so aggressive in the attempt to enter, which meant it must've been someone she didn't know.

 _…No._

She understood at apparently the same moment as Bellatrix, who pushed back from the table so quickly her chair wobbled on its legs before righting itself as Bellatrix backed across the dining room toward the wall.

"What's going on?" asked Draco, rising slowly.

"Aurors." Narcissa sighed, getting to her feet and running through possible courses of action in her mind as she glanced toward the foyer. She'd known it would be only a matter of time before they arrived to search the premises, but there was no way to truly prepare herself for their visit. Would the locked door actually slow them down at all? She had no idea. But under no circumstance could she allow them to find her sister. "Draco, take your aunt out the back and onto the grounds. Get as far away from the house as you can and stay outside until I come and find you. If you see anyone else out there..." Narcissa sighed heavily. She detested the idea of telling her son to hide from the authorities, particularly when he had done nothing wrong. He was so innocent; why should he be dragged into living like a fugitive? But he was also vastly more level-headed than Bellatrix, who likely would've attempted to fight the Aurors rather than hide from them, if left to her own devices. Narcissa trusted her son to be responsible enough to remain safe. "...you know the grounds well enough to find ways to avoid them," she continued.

Draco nodded stiffly. "Fine. But what about you?"

"I can handle them." She had certainly handled worse, though she wasn't about to admit this to him. Narcissa exchanged glances with Bellatrix. "Please," she insisted, "be careful."

"I won't do anything to provoke them, if that's what you mean." Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "I'm not a fool, Cissy. I'm not going to draw them to you."

"Of course not," Narcissa said, trying hard not to allow her bitterness into her tone. At another time, she might've tried to explain her opinion on the matter of her sister's foolishness more thoroughly, but when the knocking sounded once more, she knew time was pressing in on the three of them. "Now please hurry."

Without another word, Draco started for the door. Bellatrix followed, mumbling a "Be careful" to her sister under her breath. Narcissa rolled back her shoulders and drew herself up as tall as she could manage, waiting until several moments after the others had left the room before making her way toward the foyer.

 _They won't find anything,_ she told herself, ignoring the slight trembling that had begun in her hands and now crept upward. _There's nothing left here to find._ If Lucius had left anything else remotely dark within the house, he'd hidden it so well that even Narcissa couldn't locate it. She'd removed everything she'd found to the family vault until either she managed to find a safer place or the Ministry had satisfied itself searching the Manor, whichever came first.

She forced all traces of emotion from her face before opening the door to reveal two agitated-looking men wearing badges identifying them as Aurors. Narcissa opened her mouth to offer some form of greeting—hollow though it would've been—but one of the Aurors spoke before the sound could leave her lips.

"We're here by the order of Minister Scrimgeour himself."

Narcissa frowned. "Scrimgeour?" she repeated flatly, refusing the title and therefore the obligation to complete the thought that would lead to the Head of the Auror Office being promoted to a position of more authority.

"I never thought I'd see the day I knew something about politics before Lucius Malfoy's wife," said the taller of the Aurors, his lips curling into an unpleasant smile.

"Minister Fudge decided he was unequipped to handle the, ah, current _climate_ ," said the shorter man. "Minister Scrimgeour is, you'll find, much more prepared to handle any situations that might arise."

There was an edge to these words, and the look the man fixed on Narcissa as he spoke was one she found highly unsettling. She wondered how far word of her disobedience while visiting Azkaban had traveled and what exactly these men expected her to do to stop them from searching the house. She said nothing, only arching a brow and waiting for the Aurors to continue.

"We have an order to search the house," said the taller Auror, thrusting a scroll toward Narcissa. She reached for it hesitantly, but before she could grasp the parchment, the Auror pulled it out of her reach and returned it to his pocket. Her gaze hard, Narcissa stepped to the side to allow them entrance, trying to ignore the obnoxious pounding of her heart.

"I can assure you that you'll find nothing of interest," she said flatly.

"We'll see, won't we?"

Narcissa closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. _Remain calm. They can't possibly make things worse than they already are, can they?_

"Oh," said the short man, and when she felt him pause in front of her, Narcissa opened her eyes warily. "I hope you don't mind—several of our people are already combing the grounds."

Narcissa's stomach lurched. She felt herself starting to flush, and she prayed they wouldn't notice. "Fine," she snapped, turning away and striding toward Lucius's red chair. She sat and stared out across the foyer, refusing to follow the Aurors with her eyes as they left the room to move in separate directions.

She'd been sitting still for less than a minute when she heard the first item shatter.

Narcissa bit the inside of her cheek hard, trying not to react otherwise to the sound. She was certain whatever the men had broken had been made of glass, but she didn't dare to let herself wonder what it could've been.

As she sat as still as she could manage, her nails biting into her palms and her pulse pounding in her temples, she heard several crashes, a few more instances of what sounded like glass splintering over the floor, and what might've been a shelf being completely overturned.

 _They have no right. How can they presume to march in here and destroy my home?_

More than once, her reflexes attempted to spur her from her seat and lead her to chase down the offending visitors, but she did not leave the chair. She knew retaliation was what they expected—of course they wanted to goad her into giving them reason to do more than search the house and grounds. If she fought back, this might've been enough leverage to lead them to charge her with something, even if they found no evidence. Rufus Scrimgeour had never been particularly fond of Lucius, and Narcissa knew the man was likely to do everything in his power to worsen the already-dire situation.

She could almost hear Lucius telling her to hold still and wait for this to pass— _You can't have this baby in Azkaban,_ he'd say. _Don't let them rile you._

 _Easier said than done,_ she thought bitterly.

In order to distract herself, she pulled free the parchment she'd folded tightly and tucked beneath her sleeve at her wrist, unfolding the letter and smoothing it out over her knee. She hadn't let anyone see her reading the letters—Draco didn't need to know that Lucius had been worrying for him and Bellatrix would've laughed at the sentimentality of continuing to correspond, as she hadn't made one attempt to contact Rodolphus since his incarceration—but simply knowing that the items were present helped Narcissa more than she could describe. The majority of the letters were stowed in her dresser drawer, but she kept the most recent with her in an attempt to remind herself that all was not completely lost.

* * *

 _Narcissa,_

 _You should know that you haven't improved at lying. If Draco were 'perfectly fine,' as you say, you would be trying to tell me every detail of what's happening with his friends and whether the Parkinson girl has taken the hint that he isn't interested. Please don't try to spare me—is he acting out because of what's happened? I hope you both knew I never meant to harm you like this. I can't ask you to forgive me. That would be seeking too much. But understand that I only ever wanted to protect you both. See how splendidly that's worked?_

 _I'm certain you don't need the added strain of my pessimism. I apologize. I've nothing to occupy me apart from my thoughts, which constantly remind me of everything I've done to bring me here. My thoughts and your letters, that is, and now the photograph. Thank you for giving me a way to see you._

 _It's too cold here. My hand is shaking too much to continue. More soon._

 _Yours always,_

 _Lucius x_

* * *

Narcissa tried to ignore the changes in her husband's demeanor evident even in his writing. They'd spoken thousands of times on the matter of blame, and she'd made it clear that she did not hold him responsible for the disaster their lives had become. He'd rarely broached the subject since the time she'd left the table at dinner to avoid it, but now he appeared to have nothing better to do than blame himself. However, her decision to send the photograph had apparently been a good one. If she'd managed to bring him happiness in that horrid place, she could take a small amount of comfort in the idea that she'd done something right.

When eventually she heard footsteps approaching, she folded the letter and stowed it once again within her sleeve, hidden from the prying eyes of the men who shouldn't have been present at all.

"All finished," the tall Auror grunted. The set of his mouth was one of dissatisfaction, and Narcissa fought down the urge to smirk.

 _Of course they didn't find anything,_ she thought. _We're safe—_

She froze when she realized what the shorter man was holding.

A stack of letters was crushed between his hands, and he was watching her with a raised brow.

"What are you doing with those?" she demanded, rising from her seat at last and taking a step toward the pair.

"Considering they were sent from Azkaban," replied the Auror, "it's protocol for us to examine them."

"That's a filthy lie."

"Lady Malfoy," the man said slowly, an edge to his words that made her want to slap him for daring to speak to her in such a way here, "you can take up your complaints with Minister Scrimgeour. These will be returned to you after we've established that nothing is… out of place."

Narcissa stared at the Aurors for several moments, her rapid breaths shaking her shoulders, and then at last she strode past them, pausing several paces from the exit and gesturing them toward it.

"If you're finished," she said coolly.

The men strode in the direction she'd indicated, the tall one pausing for a moment to look in her direction.

"Oh, and, ah, congratulations." He nodded toward her stomach, and while she was left speechless wondering whether she had started to show more than she'd realized or they'd found some evidence of the baby somewhere in the house, the Aurors departed without another word. When they'd gone, Narcissa rushed upstairs, praying fiercely that they Aurors had, by some chance, left at least one more of the letters behind.

 _How dare they enter our room? That order from Scrimgeour couldn't have possibly given them permission to—_

She froze on the threshold, the breath knocked from her lungs. Picture frames had been removed from her dresser and the walls, smashed and strewn over the floor, and the mattress had been overturned and lay amid a disheveled heap of bedclothes on the carpet. One glance at the dresser told her there was no hope for the letters; the drawer had been pulled free and lay on its side beside her chair, completely emptied with its other contents scattered beside it. The book on potions beneficial during pregnancy that she'd been reading rested upside-down on her night table, its pages bent awkwardly beneath the weight of the binding.

 _Composure. Don't. Let. Yourself. Slip._

But as rage at this latest injustice—this violation of privacy and demolition of her attempt to keep the room the same as it had been when Lucius had been here—pulsed through her, she couldn't stop herself from letting out a scream.


	13. Draco's Detour

**A/N: This is the chapter that overlaps with HBP for the second time.**

* * *

Chapter Thirteen- Draco's Detour

Narcissa traced the pale skin of her son's arm with her fingertips, careful only to follow the outline of the mark newly-minted there and not to touch it directly. She'd learned enough from Lucius to know that doing so would likely cause Draco pain while the image was still so fresh, and she also had no desire to risk anything that might summon the Dark Lord while she was feeling so thoroughly mutinous.

 _I knew he was going to take everything from me,_ she thought as she stared at the image she'd seen too many times and hoped never to face imprinted on her son, _but still I tried to hope. How foolish._

"You see, Mother? He's chosen me. He thinks I can do this."

Slowly, Narcissa lifted her gaze from the Dark Mark to stare at Draco, whose face fell under the blend of alarm and affront unconcealed in her gaze.

"Go get your cloak," she breathed, refusing to comment on the matter of the Dark Lord at the moment. If she spoke anything remotely resembling the words that had been circling through her thoughts since Bellatrix had returned with Draco from what was supposed to have been a ' _meeting,'_ Narcissa was certain the man who called himself their master would sense the level of ire leveled against him and materialize.

 _If I saw him right now, I don't know which offensive spell I'd use first, but I know I would be stricken down within about thirty seconds for attempting it._

She turned away, fidgeting with a loose thread in her skirt and trying hard to conceal the extent of her disapproval from her son. She saw him shift in her periphery, and a few moments later, the sound of his footsteps retreated from the room. For her part, Bellatrix had been nowhere to be seen since returning with Draco. Narcissa imagined her sister knew what a poor decision it would've been to attempt to justify this latest act until the younger Black had been given a sufficient amount of time to work through her fury.

She remembered Lucius explaining years previously how things typically progressed when one was being inducted into the ranks of the Death Eaters. One was paired with someone older who was already initiated, and this person was responsible for the training of the recruit. Lucius had refused to elaborate on what exactly transpired during training—it was only on rare occasions that Narcissa could convince herself that she actually wanted to know—but he'd said that one never received the Dark Mark until training had been completed. Narcissa suspected the Dark Lord had marked Draco early to play into the boy's misplaced sense of pride in his task, and, much to her frustration, the ploy had apparently been successful.

She reached for her wedding ring, twisting it slightly on her finger in her discomfort and watching it glint in the light. _What would you say, if you knew about this mess? He's just like you were at his age—so certain he's fighting for something vital and for someone who can see it through, blind to the fact that he'd be sacrificed without a second thought. I know you never wanted this for him, but I don't know how to stop it. And I don't want to add to your suffering by telling you what's happening when there's no way to win._

Many times Narcissa had considered slipping something into one of her letters to inform Lucius of exactly how difficult things had become in the outside world, but she'd never managed to commit the words to parchment. She'd told him nothing of the Ministry's misconduct. After a few days' inspection of Malfoy Manor, she'd managed to find and repair everything that had been damaged or broken, but despite her repeated owls to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, the confiscated letters had not be returned to her.

She rose from the sofa and lifted her cloak from where she'd draped it over the arm of a nearby chair, pulling it on before making her way into the foyer. Draco stood beside the doors, his arms crossed and his gaze fixed firmly on the wall.

"Are you ready, dear?"

Draco nodded, though he still didn't shift his focus in his mother's direction. Narcissa studied his rigid posture and the set of his jaw, and she recognized immediately what he was trying to do. He'd begun to shut her out.

Narcissa moved forward to close the remaining distance between her son and herself, reaching up to lay a hand on Draco's cheek.

"Look at me," she said quietly. A moment passed in stillness, and then his eyes flicked to hers. "I need you to know," Narcissa continued, "that I am indescribably proud of you."

"Then why do you doubt me?" asked Draco.

"I don't, love. I—"

"Let's just go." Draco pulled back, opening the door and striding through it without another word. Narcissa stared after him for several moments, watching as he started down the path away from the house, and then she let out a short sigh, drawing her cloak tighter around her and following him out into the sunlight.

* * *

Narcissa had hoped that stopping at Madam Malkin's robe shop first would be beneficial; if the shopkeeper acquired Draco's measurements quickly, she could have all of the robes he needed ready by the time he and Narcissa had finished shopping for the rest of his school supplies. However, Narcissa hadn't counted on her son's ability to turn a simple situation into one much more complicated by refusing in full to cooperate.

"Draco, love, just hold still. Please." Folding her arms over her chest and biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from giving him further instruction, Narcissa watched as Draco's shoulders lifted and fell with his agitated sigh.

"These aren't comfortable," he said, moving his arms to gesture to the dark green robes he'd selected a few minutes previously and continuing to fidget, much to the visible frustration of the witch attempting to line the robes with pins to indicate the need for modification.

"You said you wanted them," Narcissa pointed out evenly, barely repressing the urge to frown. She had no desire to argue with him in front of Madam Malkin, and though she was certain she knew why he was unhappy, she couldn't comment on the matter in public. "If you've changed your mind," she went on instead, "just tell us. But do it quickly, because we still have to collect the rest of your things. You can pick out something else, and—"

"I am not a child, in case you haven't noticed, Mother. I am perfectly capable of doing my shopping _alone._ "

Narcissa stared at him, her blue eyes narrowing as her fingernails dug into her arms. She would not endure being pushed away by him. Not now. She opened her mouth to argue, but Madam Malkin spared her the need by letting out a cluck.

"Now, dear, your mother's quite right, none of us is supposed to go wandering around on our own anymore, it's nothing to do with being a child—"

"Watch where you're sticking that pin, will you!" Draco scowled, pulling away from the witch's hands and striding away past the nearest rack of clothing to inspect himself in the mirror. Narcissa closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, drawing in the deepest breath she could manage in an attempt to keep herself from reacting poorly to her son's behavior.

 _I'll apologize to him as soon as we're alone,_ she told herself. _How can he not understand that it isn't doubting his abilities that leads me to disagree with all this? Can't he see how worried I—?_

"If you're wondering what the smell is, Mother, a Mudblood just walked in."

Narcissa's eyes snapped open, and she lifted her head to see Draco still standing by the mirror, though judging by the distaste in his expression, someone was reflected in the glass she couldn't view from the angle at which she stood.

"I don't think there's any need for language like that!" said Madam Malkin, moving out from behind the rack and toward Draco and whomever else had arrived. "And I don't want wands drawn in my shop either!"

 _Wands?_

Narcissa took a step forward on reflex, and then she forced herself to halt. She was certain Draco's anger toward her would only increase if she were to interfere with whatever was happening, and she was torn between the need to help him and the inability to stand turning him against her to a greater degree.

"Yeah, like you'd dare do magic outside of school," said Draco, apparently answering something Narcissa hadn't heard. "Who blacked your eye, Granger? I want to send them flowers."

"That's quite enough! Madam—please—"

Narcissa rolled her shoulders backward and started toward the commotion. She would deal with Draco's irritation later. At the moment, it was more important to keep him from driving the situation from bad to worse.

The instant her gaze landed on the people to whom her son was speaking, however, Narcissa found her resolve to maintain a decent public front shaken severely. There he stood, bold and oblivious to all the pain he'd caused— _Potter,_ that ridiculous boy who'd been a thorn in her side for the last five years even before she'd met him. _Potter,_ the one who couldn't keep his nose in his own business and who had taken it upon himself to free the Malfoys' house-elf while feeding the slander Dumbledore had used to have Lucius removed from the Hogwarts Board of Governors. _Potter,_ who'd undoubtedly been responsible for the misplacing of the beast that had injured Draco in his third year at school— _Potter,_ the one who'd been stupid enough to fall into the trap set by Barty Crouch, Jr., to revive the Dark Lord and condemn Lucius to a second round of servitude and his family to a life of fear. _Potter,_ the boy who'd then somehow managed _not_ to play into the next plan, but who had instead imploded everything by allowing the prophecy to be destroyed and Lucius to be taken to Azkaban.

 _Harry Potter,_ thought Narcissa coldly. _The boy who ruined my life._

"Put those away," she demanded, glancing from Potter to the boy beside him, whom she recognized instantly as Arthur Weasley's son, to the brown-haired girl she vaguely recalled from the Quidditch World Cup. "If you attack my son again, I shall ensure that it is the last thing you ever do."

"Really?" Potter stepped forward, staring at Narcissa with a level of confidence that made her dislike him more, if possible. What right had he to look at her as though he had the upper hand—to speak to her in that scathing tone? "Going to get a few Death Eater pals to do us in, are you?"

Narcissa's hand twitched toward the wand concealed within her robes, but she gripped her arm more tightly to keep it still. Any reply she might've given was drowned out by a high-pitched noise from Malkin, whom Narcissa could see was trembling even in her periphery as she refused to remove her focus from the boy in front of her.

"Really, you shouldn't accuse—dangerous thing to say—wands away, please!"

Narcissa's lips twitched upward, and she ignored the wand now directed at her midsection. The noises in the shop were largely eclipsed by the throbbing of her heart in her ears, and a thought flitted through her mind of how her sister would've already cursed everyone in the room by now.

"I see that being Dumbledore's favorite has given you a false sense of security, Harry Potter," she said softly. "But Dumbledore won't always be there to protect you."

Potter looked away, surveying the shop before returning his focus to Narcissa. "Wow… look at that… he's not here now! So why not have a go? They might be able to find you a double cell in Azkaban with your loser of a husband!"

Narcissa's throat went dry. She'd never been prone to violence, but she'd never wanted to use an Unforgivable Curse on anyone as much as she wanted to cast _Crucio_ in that moment to inflict on this boy a shred of the pain he'd caused her and her family.

Draco lunged toward Potter, but his ill-fitting robes tripped him, and the Weasley boy let out a laugh as Narcissa felt the last of the color drain from her face.

"Don't you dare talk to my mother like that, Potter!"

"It's all right, Draco." Narcissa reached out to rest her hand on her son's shoulder, keeping her face blank despite the hatred bubbling through her. "I expect Potter will be reunited with dear Sirius before I am reunited with Lucius."

Potter raised his wand level with her heart, and Narcissa tuned out the voices of Granger and Malkin, far from caring what either had to say. She simply stared at Potter, daring him to act with her refusal to rescind her words. She'd never intended to speak to the boy or have anything at all to do with him—in her mind, he'd always been this distant antagonistic force who was only as real as her family allowed him to be. Draco had given him power by constantly complaining about each of Potter's trivial school-related successes, and Narcissa had wondered now and then whether Lucius would've retained his position on the Board of Governors if he hadn't managed to agitate the Headmaster's pet student. The downward slide of her family's luck had only become life-threatening, Narcissa knew, when the Death Eaters had been summoned again to focus their attention on this boy who somehow managed to evade capture while ensuring it for others. However, if he attacked her openly, no one could deny that she was justified in retaliation.

"Ouch!"

Narcissa was pulled from her thoughts by the pained cry of Draco, who cast a withering glance at Madam Malkin.

"Watch where you're putting your pins, woman! Mother—I don't think I want these anymore—" He ripped off the robes and dropped them at the feet of the shopkeeper, and Narcissa knew that if she didn't take this opportunity to leave, she would be unable to stop herself from doing something regrettable.

"You're right, Draco," she said, looking to Granger. The girl's blood status was the least of Narcissa's issues with the group standing before her, but it was the easiest upon which to focus without having to restrain herself from striking someone. "Now I know the kind of scum that shops here… We'll do better at Twilfitt and Tatting's."

She started for the door, Draco falling in at her side, and the two made their way out onto the street. When they'd moved several yards from the shop, Narcissa let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and looked to Draco, whose mouth was set in a thin line.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"Fine," he said shortly. "Suppose I'll need books, won't I?" He nodded down the cobblestones toward Flourish and Blotts.

"Yes, love. Come on."

She led him into the shop and began rifling through the shelves for the books she recalled from his school list.

"Mother, I—I think I'm going to look over here for a bit."

"Go ahead. I'll find you when I've finished."

Draco nodded and slipped away between the shelves, and Narcissa shook her head, forcing herself not to overthink his determination to leave her behind and focus instead on the task at hand. When she'd located and paid for every book he needed, however, she knew she couldn't put off looking for him.

"Draco?" she called, leaning around shelves and craning her neck for a better view as she drifted through the aisles. A frown slowly settled onto her lips as her search bore no results, and it was only after three circuits through the entire shop that she allowed herself to process that he was no longer in the building at all.


	14. Pride

Chapter Fourteen- Pride

Forty-seven minutes. She timed it at exactly that _—_ how long it took to find him. Upon realizing that he'd left her alone in Flourish and Blotts, she'd nearly dropped the books in her hurry to leave and determine where he'd gone, but she forced herself to remain calm, or as close to it as was physically possible, given the circumstances.

Narcissa had returned to Madam Malkin's first, half-certain that Draco had decided to finish what had been started with Potter and his followers, but on her arrival, she'd been greeted only by the shopkeeper, who stared at her with an open mouth and a slight tremble.

"Has my son returned here?"

Malkin had shaken her head, and Narcissa hadn't bothered to stay an instant longer to explain. She'd never enjoyed the idea of creating fear in others, and the look Malkin had fixed on her from the moment she'd entered was too similar to the one Narcissa herself had worn in the presence of the Dark Lord for her liking. The sight of it had turned her stomach, and she'd clutched Draco's schoolbooks tighter to her chest as she turned and departed the shop for the street outside, moving methodically from one building to the next until every shopkeeper in Diagon Alley had given her the same answer: "He's not here."

Eventually, she'd come to accept that it had been his plan to deceive her since before they'd left Malfoy Manor. Draco had never shown an interest in the procuring of his school supplies unless he'd been trying to persuade his parents to purchase him something entertaining, as well _—_ a new racing broom, for example, as he'd managed to swindle out of Lucius five years earlier during the trip for Hogwarts items _—_ and Narcissa realized she should've known his eagerness to get this excursion over with must've been due to one ulterior motive or another.

It was with this thick cloud of pessimism polluting her thoughts that she turned the corner leading to Knockturn Alley. Mercifully, she spotted the bobbing platinum-blond head of her son moving toward her only seconds after making her way onto this new path. Draco moved with his gaze directed at the cobbled ground in front of him, his hands in his pockets and his lips pressed into a hard line. Narcissa's heart roared in her ears as she started at a sprint toward him, coming to a halt directly in his path and reaching out to grasp his arm.

"Where in Merlin's name have you been?" she demanded, her voice harder than she'd intended, though she found herself unable to regret allowing her anger into the air after the way he'd treated her.

Draco jumped, his eyes widening enough to make it evident that he hadn't realized he'd been found until his mother had seized him.

"I _—_ I just needed to get something. It doesn't matter."

" _It doesn't matter?_ " Narcissa let out a frustrated cry, paying no mind to the people passing them on either side to drift through the shadows of Knockturn Alley. "Do you really think what I need at this moment in time is to be absolutely petrified by my inability to locate my son when he is very nearly all I have left, at least this side of Azkaban? Do you think taking advantage of my willingness to help you and running off on your own without a word is the appropriate way to keep this family together?"

Draco frowned deeply, lowering his gaze to the books Narcissa held and avoiding the accusation in her eyes.

"I was on my way back."

"Oh, were you? I'm flattered you remembered me eventually. What was so important that you couldn't have waited or at least told me where you were going so that I didn't spend the better part of the last hour worried out of my mind for you?"

Draco fidgeted on the spot and lifted his shoulders in a half-shrug. "I can't talk about it, Mother. It's… it's part of my task."

A long moment followed in tense silence, and Narcissa's gaze flicked unconsciously to Draco's sleeve, beneath which she knew she would find the Dark Mark. She shook her head, determined to focus on her agitation in the hope that doing so would keep her from pausing to assess exactly how hurt she was by her son's actions. Since Draco's birth, Narcissa had been willing to do literally anything within her power to keep him safe and happy, and recently, that had required moving against the wishes of the Dark Lord to set in motion a contingency plan in the event of Draco's inability to kill Albus Dumbledore. Narcissa knew that if word of her disobedience were to reach the Dark Lord, she would face at the least another taste of the Cruciatus Curse and at the worst… she wouldn't allow herself to speculate. Despite her willingness to endanger herself for his sake, he couldn't find it within himself to tell her enough about what was required of him to ease her mind.

"We're going home," she said shortly, "and then we're going to Aunt Lara's, as she's invited us for supper."

She turned away before holding out her arm, shifting the weight of the books to her other side, and waiting for him to take it. He did so without a word, and the pair Disapparated.

* * *

Narcissa said very little during the meal prepared by the Mulcibers' elf. Normally, she found herself able to speak around Lucius's family with ease _—_ quite a bit more so than she'd ever felt around her own parents _—_ but tonight, she found her worries too distracting to focus well on the conversation at hand. It wasn't until Draco had departed the table with Lara's children and Lucius's mother Seraphina, who had moved in with her daughter after the death of Abraxas in order to give her son and his wife dominion over the family's largest estate, addressed her specifically that Narcissa managed to speak more than a few words in succession.

"How are things going with the baby, Narcissa? Have you been feeling well?"

"As well as can be expected," she said with a light shrug, her fingertips moving unconsciously over the napkin lying in her lap. Her morning sickness had become more of an inconvenience than a serious detriment to her daily life, particularly when the rest of her stressors dominated so much of her focus. "It's about the same as—as it was with Draco." She took a sip from her glass, avoiding the gazes of the others. _As it's been every time,_ she'd wanted to say, but discussing her many attempts at carrying children wasn't something she was prepared to do. She'd promised Lucius to try to remain positive about this pregnancy, and she intended to keep her word.

"Will you ask the healers about the gender?" asked Seraphina.

Narcissa shrugged. "I'm not certain. A surprise would give me something to look forward to, though I'd like to consider names. I'll have to speak with Lucius about it."

"Have the letters been working for you?"

Narcissa glanced down the table to Lara and nodded after a moment's pause.

"They were, yes. But when the Ministry decided to raid our home, they confiscated nearly all of the letters I've received."

"That's outrageous!" said Seraphina, her eyes narrowing. "The nerve—Scrimgeour's in charge now, isn't he?"

"Unfortunately," muttered Lara.

"Head of the Auror Department… we should've known he wouldn't make a secret of his dislike for our family." Seraphina sighed. "Regardless, he shouldn't be able to keep your property."

"I don't plan to allow him to, no," said Narcissa. "I believe I've given the Ministry enough time to do the right thing. I'm going to demand the letters back."

Seraphina nodded and raised her glass in Narcissa's direction. "Good, dear. You don't deserve to be troubled by the likes of those people. You've enough on your mind."

"I do." Narcissa glanced toward the door through which her son had departed with his cousins. "Things with Draco have been… trying, to put it lightly."

"I'd imagine he doesn't know what to do without his father," said Seraphina, the corners of her lips turning downward.

Narcissa knew her mother-in-law must've been experiencing quite a bit of the anguish she herself felt due to Lucius's incarceration, but the two hadn't yet spoken much on the matter. On Narcissa's part, this wasn't due to the fear of being judged by her level of devastation but due to the fear of allowing herself to acknowledge how deep the wound ran. Narcissa trusted Seraphina, who had shown her more compassion than Druella ever had, and knew that if pressed in conversation with the older woman, she would admit how utterly lost she had become. Denial, on the other hand, would allow her to retain some degree of composure, false though it was.

"You remember how Lucius was after Abraxas passed," Seraphina went on, inclining her head to Narcissa. "Though it's not the same circumstance, thank Merlin, it's a separation he doesn't know how to face because there's no real solution, save time. Abraxas was never forthcoming with how much he cared for Lucius, and Lucius was worried about trying to please him. They certainly argued—I'm not sure how I survived two such strong-willed men under one roof—but they respected one another. But it's more than that with Draco… he idolizes his father."

"He does," said Narcissa with a soft sigh. "I can't always get through to him. I feel that Lucius would know what to say to make him see reason, but no matter how I try, I don't think Draco hears me."

"He'll come around," said Lara. "He has to know that you only want what's best for him."

"Unfortunately, we can't agree on what exactly that means."

* * *

… _How do you reason with someone who's so sure he knows what's best that he completely ignores the guidance you try to offer? I feel like I'm losing him, Lucius, and I can't handle it. You always know what to do at times like this—will that be me, if the baby's a girl? Will I suddenly understand how to get through to her? And will we want to know what she or he will be in advance? I have too many questions, and I don't mean to bombard you with them, but it's getting so difficult to think clearly with all of these things—_

* * *

"Are you still angry with me?"

Narcissa looked up from the parchment upon which she'd been writing to find Draco standing on the threshold. When they'd returned home, she'd taken a seat at the desk in Lucius's study to vent her frustrations in the form of another letter, and she'd taken care to express her trouble in communicating with their son without explaining exactly what issues had divided them. Now was not, she knew, the time to mention Draco's mission.

"No."

"You barely said a word to me at supper, Mother."

"I'm not… angry with you," she said carefully, sliding from the chair and starting toward where he stood.

"What, then? If you say disappointed, I—"

"What I need is for you to be honest with me," said Narcissa as she came to a halt in front of her son. He was watching her with poorly-concealed hesitation, as though he were a young child again awaiting his inevitable punishment. "We can't keep secrets, not from one another. Draco, I know you have been given a task of the utmost importance and that things will be required of you that I do not want you to do. I also know that what I want doesn't matter, when it comes to your orders." She'd accepted this fact long ago, though the orders in question had always belonged to Lucius. "But I will not be used. Not as some unwitting participant in whatever it is you've been told to do to prepare for this. I will help you in any way that I can—I love you, and I want you to succeed. But don't think for a moment that I will endure being disrespected and abandoned in the middle of a crowded street while you go off to bear the world on your shoulders, thinking that I won't understand or will somehow hold you back. Whether you like it or not—whether the Dark Lord likes it or not—I am part of this mess. He ensured that when he asked my child to risk his life for this cause. And while you may think that I don't have faith in you or your ability to do what you've been asked, that isn't the case. What I don't have is faith in myself to go on if something happens to you because I didn't do everything in my power to make sure that you were safe and as equipped as possible to face this. No more hiding from me, no more trying to handle all of this on your own. Do you understand?"

Draco stood perfectly still as his mother spoke, and several seconds passed in silence when she'd finished before he managed a stiff nod. Narcissa believed she caught sight of moisture forming in his eyes, but before she could determine this for certain, he'd pulled her into an embrace.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'll tell you everything I can."


	15. Dedication

Chapter Fifteen- Dedication

 _I should've been more careful what I asked for… but I'm glad he's allowing me to see them._

Narcissa moved with practiced care as she tended to the cuts, scratches, and deep scrapes running along Draco's arms. She'd had considerable experience tending to injuries inflicted by magic, though those created by her sister proved to be a bit more stubborn than those Lucius had incurred accidentally while on excursions for the Dark Lord.

She detested the idea of harm befalling Draco, particularly at the hands of Bellatrix, but she knew that in this case, she could not object. Bellatrix had been designated to educate Draco in the finer points of offensive magic, and, as she occasionally preferred to deal with her victims through the use of physical weapons, she'd begun to demonstrate their use, as well.

As Narcissa looked up from a long, jagged cut running along Draco's forearm, she fixed her eyes on his face to find him watching her with a slight frown.

"This one's from a knife, isn't it?"

"Mother, I don't think you really want to know."

"I do. I know she wants to help you, but if she's going too far, then I'll speak with her and tell her I won't allow it."

Draco sighed. "How far is too far? How can we know what I'll be up against?"

"I really don't think Albus Dumbledore is going to hold you down and slice you with a blade." Silence rang through the air after Narcissa's words, and she closed her eyes, inhaling deeply and releasing the breath before returning her focus to her son's face. "I'm sorry. I know Bella wants your training to be thorough, but I don't think all this is necessary."

Draco shrugged noncommittally. "Tell her what you like." _At your own risk,_ Narcissa added mentally. She knew that of the two of them, Bellatrix was more likely to listen to her than to Draco, but her sister had never been reasoned with easily, and Narcissa doubted this time would be any exception. Still, she would try.

"I'll speak with her after I return from the Ministry," she said, nodding to herself.

"Do you think they'll be reasonable?"

Narcissa let out a short, flat laugh. "Of course not. But I'm prepared to make their jobs much more difficult, if they continue treating us this way. Our connections may not be what they once were, but we have enough to cause trouble for Scrimgeour."

The Malfoy name had once inspired awe and, when required, even a bit of fear within the Wizarding community; so ancient and prestigious a bloodline commanded respect, and its members were often persuasive enough to compensate for whatever influence their name lacked. The family's credibility had been undeniably damaged by Lucius's imprisonment, and Narcissa knew that her refusal to adhere to the rules where he was concerned had done little to help their case. Still, she hoped that the connections they still possessed to a handful of Ministry officials and a few Pureblood lines that had not yet lost members to Azkaban would count for something. She made a mental note to begin compiling a list of friends who still held power, internally cursing just how many of the people with whom her family was close had also been punished for their connection to the Dark Lord.

"In any event," Narcissa continued, "you should rest while I'm gone. You've trained more than enough for today."

* * *

She fought to keep her face utterly blank as she stared at the Auror's back. He was moving more slowly than she'd ever seen anyone move without injuries or the hindrance of some form of magic, but she knew these were not the reasons for the delay. Narcissa suspected the Aurors had found nothing within the letters that could be used against her or Lucius and that they were reluctant to return the items to her and lose what leverage they possessed. At last, she watched the Auror turn to face her, the stack of letters clasped in his hands and tied haphazardly with a dull, tan string. Narcissa could see even from across the counter that the edges of several of the envelopes had been bent and creased, and her nose wrinkled involuntarily in distaste for these people and their lack of concern for the objects that carried such emotional weight for her.

"Here you are, Lady Malfoy."

When he set the letters on the counter, she pulled them toward her as though the thin string binding them might've been a rope with the ability to stop her fall from some high ledge. She turned away without a word, the half-hearted thanks she'd planned to give the man for the sake of politeness dying in her throat. _These people haven't earned your civility,_ she told herself. _They're responsible for everything._ The list of people she blamed for her pain appeared to grow by the day, but she couldn't bring herself to regret compiling this ledger and levying the responsibility. Even hating the Aurors served as a distraction, however brief, from the dark place her mind was becoming.

As she moved through the door and into the corridor outside, the letters clutched to her tightly under her arm, she was nearly knocked from her feet by a man moving toward the Auror Office with brisk determination and a scowl set so deeply into his face it might've been permanent. Her heart seized as she recognized him, and he stopped in his tracks.

"Terribly sorry, I was in too much of a rush to… Lady Malfoy. I didn't expect to see you here."

"I didn't expect to be here, Minister Scrimgeour." Narcissa forced her breaths to remain as even as possible and kept as much of the ice from her tone as she could manage. "I needed to pick up some of my things."

Scrimgeour nodded slowly. "Ah, yes. Dawlish told me about your correspondence. Do pardon the intrusion—it's all a matter of protocol."

"Of course it is. I trust you're satisfied with what you found."

Scrimgeour raised a brow. "I hope you understand that I personally was not involved in the search of your home or the confiscation of your letters."

Narcissa inhaled deeply and mulled over the responses she could give in an attempt to determine what would cause the smallest amount of backlash. Before she could speak, however, her attention was arrested by the rapid shuffling of feet from behind her.

"Lady Malfoy! Can I have a word for _The Daily Prophet?_ Is it true that you're with child, now that your husband's in Azkaban?"

Narcissa's jaw clenched, and she kept her focus straight ahead on Scrimgeour, fighting to tune out the rapid approach of the reporter.

"Your people… told them?" she muttered, floodgates opening within her mind to allow this latest betrayal to crash over her completely and knock the breath from her lungs. She'd only told a handful of family members, none of whom would've leaked the news to the media. The only other method of transmitting the information rested under her arm, and apart from the husband who Narcissa knew would've rather faced any number of curses than give the Ministry or the _Prophet_ anything to use against them, the only people who'd had access to her letters were the Aurors who had stolen them.

"I've no idea." Scrimgeour shrugged, glancing over Narcissa's shoulder as the footsteps drew nearer. "The Aurors found nothing to incriminate you, so you're more than free to return home. Do try to keep your nose clean."

Her fists clenched tightly enough that she was fairly certain blood would be drawn from her palms, she strode past him and moved as quickly as she could without breaking into a run into the nearest lift, keeping her gaze on the floor as it rose and not sparing a glance in the direction of the woman shouting questions outside the bars or the flashes that threatened to blind her from the photographer.

"Do you deny the charges that have been raised against your husband? Do you support what he's done? Lady Malfoy!"

 _Don't look at them. Don't look at them._

* * *

 _Narcissa,_

 _If you'll tell me what it is that you and Draco are disagreeing on, I can try to offer more insight. Whatever you're trying to keep from me, I know you well enough to be sure that you think you're protecting me. It isn't necessary—what more can I lose? I'm already trapped here, separated from the two people I care for the most. The least I can do is manage to be informed and try to advise you through whatever you're enduring at home. In any event, I'm certain he'll come to his senses—he knows how very much you love him and that you wouldn't lead him astray. As for the baby, I would rather be surprised. That way, we can consider two sets of names and give ourselves more positive ideas on which to focus._

 _Yours always,_

 _Lucius x_

* * *

She'd returned the set of letters to her drawer immediately upon returning home, and after reading the latest, she'd spent over an hour considering how best to respond. Eventually, she'd decided that facing her sister might be easier than determining how much to lie to the one person with whom she'd always been honest until the safety of their family had made that impossible.

 _This must be how he's always felt._ Lucius had never truly lied to her about what he'd done for the Dark Lord. He'd simply been cryptic when he'd known Narcissa didn't want specifics and discussed the things with which she disagreed as sparingly as possible. She'd always known in theory that he'd been trapped, unable to forsake a life of service because the Dark Lord held the power to destroy everything Lucius loved. Narcissa had always trusted her husband to make the right decisions and keep her and Draco safe, but she'd never understood exactly how difficult that line must've been to tread until now.

She found Bellatrix in the lounge, glaring at the wall over the rim of a glass of what was probably some form of alcohol.

"Be more careful with Draco."

"Careful?" Bellatrix repeated, chuckling under her breath as she shifted her focus to her sister. "You really think that's going to help him, Cissy?"

"I think you can teach him what he needs to know without torturing him," Narcissa snapped.

Bellatrix rolled her heavy-lidded eyes and sighed. "Not like it matters anyway, is it? He's leaving for school tomorrow."

"Don't remind me," Narcissa mumbled, dropping into a chair and staring into the fireplace.

"He'll be fine, you know."

Narcissa didn't look at Bellatrix as the latter drew closer, watching only in her periphery until she felt a hand rest on her arm, at which point she looked down to where it rested.

"He's dedicated. He wants this. He'll do well."

"Do you really believe that, or do you just not want to deal with my worrying, after he's gone?"

"I believe he'll do everything he can to succeed at this. You don't know how to give up, so I doubt you taught him how to, either."


	16. Progress

**A/N: TW for mentions of previous miscarriages. [Side-note: Happy New Year, all!]**

* * *

Chapter Sixteen- Progress

"Are you sure it wouldn't have been better to just call her to the Manor? Do you really want to be out, at the moment?" Lara asked, glancing over her shoulder.

Narcissa didn't bother looking at the small clusters of people she and Lara passed as they made their way through St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries; she felt their stares pressing in on her and heard their whispers, and that was more than enough. She'd done her best to avoid interacting with people apart from those she knew she could trust, particularly after her visit to the Ministry had ended with her photo plastered on _The Daily Prophet_ 's front page beneath the headline "Fallen and Flustered: Malfoy Avoids Questioning." The image had shown her entering the lift to avoid the _Prophet_ 's reporter and photographer, which, apparently had been a wasted effort. A little over a month later, she was still uncertain whether the Aurors who had raided her home were responsible for leaking the news of her pregnancy to the press or whether those in charge of handling her letters were to blame, but either way, her already-nonexistent respect for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement had deteriorated into absolute loathing. Her tolerance for the general public was lower now than it had ever been, but she was due to see a Healer, and she'd decided traveling to St. Mungo's was the wisest course of action.

Narcissa shook her head. "No, I don't particularly want to be here, but I want the best care available, and I'd rather her have access to anything she might need. For the next visit, I'll request that we meet at the Manor. She met me there for the last few appointments, but… this is around the time things have started getting difficult, before, and I want to take every precaution possible."

Lara nodded. "I just want you to be comfortable."

"I'll be fine. Really, though, thank you for coming with me." As the list of people Narcissa could trust dwindled, so did the list of those she felt legitimately cared for her well-being. She would've preferred to be accompanied by Lucius while visiting a Healer, but that was impossible, and Bellatrix couldn't afford to be seen in public, if she planned to remain out of prison. Lara, however, was free to join her sister-in-law for whatever moral support she could provide, as she and Narcissa were each only guilty by association, and Narcissa was grateful for Lara's presence.

"I wish you'd let me do more," said Lara as the two turned the corner into the waiting room Narcissa recalled from her last visit to this ward of the hospital many years previously. A wizard sat at a circular desk thumbing through a magazine, and he glanced up at them as they approached before returning his attention to his reading.

"There's really nothing to do, yet," said Narcissa. "Right now, just being able to talk to you is keeping me relatively sane, so I appreciate it."

The wizard at the desk looked up once again as the women paused in front of him. He pushed up the glasses that had started to slide down the bridge of his nose with one finger and glanced from Narcissa to Lara and back.

"Do you have an appointment?" he asked.

Narcissa nodded.

"Your name, please?"

"Narcissa Malfoy."

The wizard glanced away quickly, reaching for a stack of files resting on the desk beside him and beginning to rifle through them. Narcissa watched the man in silence and waited until he eventually pulled what she assumed was the proper file from the stack and opened it, scribbling something on the first page before closing it again.

"Have a seat. We'll be ready for you momentarily."

The wizard did not look up at her again when he spoke, and Narcissa felt no obligation toward further politeness. She turned away and took a seat in one of the nearby brightly-upholstered chairs, Lara slipping into the one beside her.

 _This will not last forever,_ Narcissa told herself. _One day soon, our name will mean something to these people again—something more than a reason to turn away and deny me respect._ Though her loathing for the Dark Lord grew stronger with each day she was kept from Lucius because of the other man's manipulations, she still found herself hoping the Dark Lord's plans ultimately succeeded, if only because the world he envisioned was the only one in which she could imagine her family returning to the state of honor it deserved. She assumed he would eventually realize he needed the entirety of his ranks, if he planned to succeed, and would find a way to free those who had been captured, but for now, she knew allowing them to suffer was the Dark Lord's twisted form of punishment. _If I thought it would help—that it would get Lucius out sooner—I'd join them myself._

She could only imagine how poorly her husband would take to that idea, and she pushed it from her mind.

"Narcissa."

She looked up at the sound of the familiar voice, a small smile slipping onto her lips. The Healer who had entered the waiting room was Odette Nott, whom Narcissa had known in at least a vague capacity since her school days and with whom she had become close afterward, as they'd spent a fair amount of time together due to the friendship their husbands had forged in the Dark Lord's service. Narcissa glanced toward the wizard at the desk to find him frowning and staring pointedly at his magazine, and she supposed his distaste was not reserved for her alone but for anyone with connections to her side in the war. _At least Odette has managed to keep her job,_ she thought. _I was afraid they'd run her off, and there's no one else here I'd want to allow near my child._

"It's nice to see you," Narcissa said, sliding to her feet and smoothing her skirt into alignment before moving forward to stand beside her friend, taking a moment to survey the other witch. Odette's dark hair was pulled back into a neat bun, and she wore the typical lime-green robes indicating her position, but her face was somewhat drawn, and Narcissa knew the other witch had been suffering in much the same way as herself. "How've you been?"

"As well as expected. Not entirely sure what to do with my time, now that Theo's off at school."

"I know the feeling," Narcissa muttered. She had been reluctant to allow Draco to leave her embrace at Platform 9 ¾, though she'd known she'd had no choice.

" _Promise me you'll write,"_ she'd told him. _"I need to know you're okay."_

" _I promise, Mum. I'll be fine. Trust me. And I'll be home before you know it."_

"Shall we?" Odette nodded toward the doorway behind her, and Narcissa glanced to Lara, who was watching her from the chair.

"I'll be back soon."

"I'll be here." Lara offered Odette a smile, and then as she glanced toward the wizard at the desk, her mouth twisted into a frown. Narcissa wasn't overly fond of the thought of leaving her sister-in-law with only this man for company in the otherwise-empty waiting room, but she knew she needed to handle the appointment on her own.

Odette led Narcissa into the next room and closed the door behind them.

"Please make yourself comfortable."

As she settled onto the examination table, Narcissa thought of exactly how unlikely that was. She'd been anxious nearly to the degree of illness since waking that morning, which was to say nothing of the previous days spent wondering what she would learn. Her hand moved on reflex to her stomach, which had started to show her state a few weeks previously, and she forced in a deep breath, reminding herself that worrying was more likely to hurt the baby than to do anything beneficial. She held still while Odette measured her vitals and performed a series of charms, at one point pulling free a strand of Narcissa's hair to be added to a clear potion that rested on a small desk by the wall of the tiny room. Narcissa attempted not to pay too much attention to which spells were used or guess at what Odette was writing in her file now and then; if she allowed herself to overthink the examination, she knew she would find reason to suspect that something was wrong. If the potion was the one she suspected, the hair she'd given would change the liquid's color based on the baby's health. She glanced at the small bottle in which the potion was contained to find it shifting into a pale lavender. It began to darken steadily, and as Odette settled into the chair between the desk and the examination table, Narcissa forced her gaze away from the bottle.

"You really should try to relax," said Odette with a sigh.

"That's much more easily said than done." Narcissa stared at the wall behind her friend, determined to keep her expression as smooth and composed as was possible.

"Narcissa, I don't think you've ever told me… and please don't feel obligated to answer, if you don't feel like discussing it. I won't say a word about it to anyone—I promise. I know you've had quite a bit of difficulty having children, but, ah… how many times have you tried?"

The room was silent for several moments, and then Narcissa let out a long sigh, feeling as though the weight of the years since that first loss had piled atop her lungs like a pile of stones and needed to be expelled.

"Actually tried? I never really counted. Too many times. But successfully… well, there were six that Lucius and I almost had, apart from Draco." Her hands were clasped on her knees, and as she spoke, they twisted and tightened involuntarily as though they were rebelling against her sharing this information. The miscarriages were still what Narcissa regarded as the most difficult experiences of her life, and she did her best to avoid discussing them, though now and then, the words slipped out when she was alone with Lucius and her memories had seen fit to haunt her nightmares or she'd found herself thinking about the past for too long during her waking hours. Her husband was the only one with whom she discussed the subject, or he had been, until this pregnancy. Narcissa's worries that history would repeat itself had led the words from her lips a few times in the company of Bellatrix or Lara, but until now, she hadn't spoken of her difficulty carrying children with Odette since before Draco and Theodore had entered Hogwarts.

At the light touch of a hand atop her own, Narcissa looked away from the wall, blinking away the haze that had begun to cloud her vision as she shifted her focus to Odette.

"I'm sorry," said Odette quietly. "No one should lose that much."

 _We named each of them,_ Narcissa wanted to say. _I know exactly how old each would be, now, and I often wonder how close they would've been with Draco and if he'd be happier if he'd grown up with someone near his age._ Instead, she smiled thinly and rolled her shoulders backward, trying to draw herself up a bit straighter in her seat.

"I'm only glad we're getting another chance," she said.

Odette nodded, giving Narcissa's hands a squeeze and then releasing them to reach for the small bottle of purple liquid sitting on the desk. She lifted the bottle and gave it a small swirl, studying the contents for a moment, and then she glanced back to Narcissa with the hint of a smile on her lips.

"And you shouldn't worry," said Odette. "Everything's fine, this time."

"…It is?"

"Yes." Odette's smile widened. "The baby's healthy. Right around four months, yes?"

Narcissa nodded, and the knot her stomach had been working itself into all morning began to loosen at last. "Yes, almost exactly."

"Then if the little one isn't early, that should mean you're due near the end of February. Was Draco born prematurely?"

"By three weeks."

"Well, even if the baby decides to do something similar, we'll make sure you're both taken care of."

"Thank you. You've no idea how much of a relief that is to hear." _Particularly after dealing with a certain Unforgivable Curse,_ Narcissa added mentally. Though he might've tried to do so, the Dark Lord had not taken this blessing from her. Now that she had made it this far, she believed it might be safe to allow herself to start thinking of names, and at the very least, she would have good news to pass on in her next letter to Lucius, whom she was certain was in need of something positive to focus on after more than three months of entrapment.

She reached out to brush her fingertips over her wedding ring. _You were right,_ she thought. _Our baby's going to be okay._


	17. Distance

Chapter Seventeen- Distance

 _My Lucius—_

 _At this point, I don't suppose it matters what I say about what the Ministry is doing, as its people are apparently determined to find fault in us no matter how carefully we tread, as are quite a few others I've come into contact with out here. They've raided the Manor for a second time, and again, they found nothing. I'm certain they'll read this, and they've already confiscated your letters to me once. I can only pray that they realize doing so again would not benefit them in the slightest. We have nothing left to hide. Unfortunately, this includes the news about the baby, as the_ Prophet _managed to find out—I'll leave how to your imagination—and announce our news to the world at large._

 _I'm sure you're as frustrated by this as I am, but I do have some good news to balance things out: I've just met with Odette, and she says the baby is perfectly healthy. He or she is due to arrive at the end of February, unless Draco was the beginning of a pattern as far as early births go, but I'm trying to tell myself not to worry about that, now. At least the baby is doing well, and I'm excited to hear what names you've considered._

 _I miss you._

 _Draco does, as well; he's left for school, and he took your wand with him. I think he wants to keep you near in some way, and he's determined to make you proud as he goes into what's shaping up to be quite a difficult year. I'm not certain whether they'll allow you to owl Hogwarts, but if they will, please let him know you're thinking of him._

 _My love always,_

 _Narcissa_

* * *

 _Narcissa,_

 _You're correct_ _—they'll find nothing, as we have nothing to hide. I am beyond enraged at the nerve these people have shown. I can't focus on it, now, or I'll be unable to keep myself from letting the guards know how unacceptable it is._

 _No matter what else we decide, if the baby is female, I want your name to be her middle name. I haven't forgotten how strongly you protested this when we considered it in the past, but I believe my reasoning still stands. You insisted we keep with my family's tradition and give Draco my name for his second, and I am insisting we do the same for you, should we have a daughter, particularly considering that you are going through the difficulty of carrying her with me unable to help you. You are, without a doubt, the strongest person I know, and even if you refuse to see that, I want to honor it. Will you want to continue your family's pattern of naming children after stars? I won't get carried away suggesting those until I know, but… well, Rigel, Vega, Altair, Ophiuchus… all right, that may be a constellation, but it's also a mouthful, and I'm not certain I'd want to inflict it upon a child. The others, perhaps. What do you have in mind?_

 _I will write Draco and hope I'll be permitted to send the letter to him. Why do you anticipate his year will be difficult? I've thought about it, about everything you're not saying, and I think I know what's happening. If he is suffering for my failures, please tell me now. I'll refrain from asking for specifics, but I need to know that much._

 _And I hope you know that I miss you endlessly._

 _Yours always,_

 _Lucius x_

* * *

As she sat silently at the dining room table, Narcissa was torn between the desire to dwell on the contents of her husband's latest letter or to push them from her mind. The news she'd imparted about the baby's safety had apparently been successful in distracting him, however temporarily, from his suffering. Still, she'd let too much slip about Draco's predicament, and Lucius had, at last, come to suspect the truth: his son was being punished for his actions. Any denial or evasion of that truth at this point would, Narcissa knew, amount to a lie, and the idea of expanding the distance between herself and Lucius by lying to him about something so important was thoroughly unappealing. She detested how hard it had become to feel his presence around Malfoy Manor, now that he had been away for so long. The scent of his cologne had faded from his side of the bed, and Narcissa had taken to spraying it now and then to bring him closer in whatever way she could manage, but it was nowhere near enough.

Focusing on what he'd asked and what she would have to say would, at the moment, be a mistake. She sat stiffly, her hands braced on either arm of the chair one place to the right of the space she normally occupied at her table, which was now filled by her sister Bellatrix. The chair at the end, which should've belonged to Lucius, was taken by none other than the Dark Lord himself. Narcissa knew she could not allow her mind to dwell on anything potentially incriminating while he was present.

"I thank you for your hospitality, Narcissa."

Reluctantly, she looked up at the sound of the voice, which lingered like a hiss in the air even after the words had ceased to flow. The sound reminded her of the enormous serpent that she had last seen disappearing beneath the table, and she fought to repress a shiver, trying not to wonder where the Dark Lord's pet had gone.

"It's my pleasure, My Lord. I hope the meal was satisfactory."

"It was indeed. Now, your sister and I have matters to discuss privately. Come, Bellatrix."

The Dark Lord rose, turning for the door without a glance at the elder Black sister and striding into the corridor, his dark robes sweeping the floor behind him. A soft hiss echoed over the marble floor, and Narcissa caught a glimpse of Nagini slipping out from beneath the table and following her master from the room. Narcissa looked to Bellatrix to redirect her focus.

"He's not just making me leave?"

"It's your house," said Bellatrix, pushing back her chair to stand.

"How kind," said Narcissa flatly. _I'm certain he just wants free reign of the place and whatever area he would prefer to convene with you while leaving me in the dark._

Bellatrix sighed. "Tread carefully, Cissy. Be thankful he isn't angry with you."

Narcissa said nothing. She turned away, staring at the empty seat across from her until her sister's retreating footsteps signaled that she was alone in the room.

 _How much more careful can I be? I'm withholding information from my husband because it'll either be stolen by the Ministry or the Dark Lord will find out somehow and do Merlin-knows-what to me for it. I can't even_ think _freely in my own home, because the man who's responsible for all this can show up here without a moment's notice, and it isn't as though I can turn him away, if I plan to stay in one piece._

She shifted her hands to her lap and clenched her fists, closing her eyes tightly and attempting to force deep breaths into her lungs in an effort to slow the beating of her heart. She was indescribably tired of living this way—of living in _fear._ She'd done far more than her share of that before her marriage, when she'd been at the mercy of an alcoholic father with a temper, a particular liking for the Cruciatus Curse, and a Pureblood patriarch's sense of entitlement to power within his home as well as a mother who'd viewed Narcissa as little more than a pretty little bargaining chip to advance their family's social standing. When she'd married Lucius, Narcissa had escaped that life for one in which she was respected as an equal and allowed to pursue the future she wanted: a family of her own with someone who loved her and children she would never use and degrade as her parents had done.

The person—if he could truly be called that—responsible for shattering that future would not rule her life through fear. While she could do little to remedy her situation at the moment, she could, at the very least, attempt to determine what was being hidden from her so blatantly even within the walls of her own home.

 _I deserve that much._

She pushed herself to her feet and moved as quietly as possible into the corridor, pausing outside the dining room to listen. She heard voices drifting from the direction of the lounge, and she crept closer, unwilling to give away her position by making unnecessary noise.

"…told me that he would begin repairing the cabinet as soon as he reached Hogwarts, but I haven't heard anything from him."

"Of course you haven't. Do you really think he would be foolish enough to address a letter to the aunt the Ministry is searching for? He will do this part as he said, I am certain. It is what he will do after he's cleared the way for you to enter the castle that concerns me."

Narcissa moved through the shadows, remaining as close to the wall as she could to avoid casting one of her own in the light spilling through the doorway to the lounge.

"You don't think he'll go through with it, My Lord?" asked the voice Narcissa knew belonged to Bellatrix.

"That remains to be seen. Perhaps he will try, and perhaps not. Either way, you are to remain with him after you've entered the castle. I'll want to know everything that happens, and no matter what the boy chooses, Dumbledore must die."

"He will, My Lord."

Something heavy brushed against Narcissa's foot, and her heart leapt into her throat. She flattened her back against the wall, pulling away on instinct from what she realized too late was Nagini. The serpent moved slowly past her and into the lounge, and for several seconds, the only things Narcissa could hear were the pounding of her pulse in her ears and a soft hissing from the room beyond.

Eventually, the Dark Lord spoke. "You are dismissed, Bellatrix."

"But I—yes, My Lord."

Narcissa held her breath, remaining immobile as Bellatrix emerged from the lounge and strode past, her gaze fixed pointedly ahead and her lips twisting into a scowl as soon as she was out of her master's view. She didn't spare so much as a glance in the direction where her sister stood hiding in the shadows beside the door, and as Bellatrix moved swiftly down the corridor, Narcissa believed she had gone unnoticed.

"Come in, Narcissa."

She swallowed hard and rolled her shoulders backward, steeling herself against whatever was to come, and stepped forward into the lounge at the request from the Dark Lord that she knew was, in actuality, an order. He sat in a chair beside the fireplace, which was currently dormant, and Nagini had wound herself around the chair's legs. Narcissa believed the snake was watching her, but she told herself to pay the creature no mind.

"I'd hoped you would learn that it is within your best interest to heed my words," said the Dark Lord, his cold, slit-like eyes boring into Narcissa from where he sat.

"My Lord, I—"

"Do not try to make excuses. You were listening." He stood, and Narcissa felt suddenly shorter as he began to move closer, Nagini twisting more tightly around the chair's legs as she flicked her tongue. The urge to draw back and run from the room swept over Narcissa, but her feet would not move. "I'm sure you know," the Dark Lord continued, pausing in front of her and reaching out in one quick, fluid motion to catch her wrist tightly in his grip, "that I have killed people for less."

"I'm sorry, My Lord," Narcissa breathed. "It won't happen again."

"No, it will not."

He shoved her roughly backward, and she stumbled into a small end table, her back making contact with the row of decanters, bottles, and glasses that had been arranged on its surface. Pain shot through her, splintering outward in every direction from each spot the glass broke her skin, and she swallowed the cry that wanted to burst from her throat as she sank to the floor, feeling warmth begin to trickle along her back. She closed her eyes for only a moment, drawing in the largest breath she could hold to gain control of herself, and then she opened them to find herself sitting in a pile of sickeningly-pungent alcohol, the halves of the end table that had been cracked by the impact, and broken glass. Before she could stand, the Dark Lord crouched in front of her, lowering his face until their eyes were level.

"You've done so well. Don't ruin things for yourself now."

She glanced toward the door, wondering how far Bellatrix had gone and if she had heard the crash. The Dark Lord reached around to twist a hand into Narcissa's hair, turning her head to force her to look at him once more.

"Your full cooperation," he said. "That is what I demanded, and that is what I expect. Do we have an understanding?"

"Yes, My Lord." Narcissa's throat was tight, constricted with emotion she couldn't allow herself to show in front of him. Her thoughts drifted against her will to Lucius's letter; she supposed it was her mind's attempt at searching out a coping mechanism.

 _Yes, Draco's suffering. We all are. I wish you were here. No matter what we name the baby, he or she won't be any safer than the rest of us. I wish you were here._


	18. Healing

**A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews, follows, and faves. I love hearing from you guys, especially on this one, as it's one of my favorites to write and is also difficult to, at times. With that said, things start to take a slightly positive turn in this chapter.**

* * *

Chapter Eighteen- Healing

"Sorry. Sorry, I'm trying to be careful. Just breathe."

Narcissa nodded, gritting her teeth and holding tightly to the sheets beneath her as she felt the last of the glass shards work its way from her back. She let out a long breath and listened as the shard fell into the bowl Odette had laid out to collect them, and as the pain began to dull, Narcissa knew the healing charms her friend was muttering were working.

As soon as the Dark Lord had left her alone and she'd found the will to move, Narcissa had made her way upstairs to her bedroom. Her entire body had ached, and she hadn't trusted her ability to heal her own wounds when she couldn't see them, and so she'd left her room long enough to owl Odette before secluding herself once again. Her trembling had eventually stilled, and she'd done her best to block the night's events from her mind, though she knew they would return to haunt her eventually.

 _Don't think about it. Don't think about him._

Odette had answered the summons and followed the request to come directly to the proper room upon arrival, and so far, Narcissa had managed to avoid answering too many questions about what had happened to leave her in this state.

She caught her breath as something warm touched her back, and as she realized that it was a damp rag, she relaxed once again.

"Almost done," said Odette. "Cleaning off the blood."

"Thank you. I'm sorry to trouble you so late."

"It's no trouble."

Narcissa heard shifting behind her and felt a slight chill as the rag was pulled away from her back.

"I'll go dispose of these in the bathroom and let you get dressed."

Narcissa listened as Odette's footsteps receded in the direction of the master bathroom, and then she sat up slowly, working to regain her bearings. She climbed off the bed and pulled on the pale green dress she'd draped over the chair at her vanity before running her brush through her long, blond hair. _I can at least try to look like everything's normal,_ she told herself. The redness around her eyes had begun to fade, as had the majority of the pain, and she intended to push the night's disasters from her mind as soon as possible.

 _I can pretend it never happened, if that's what I need to do. And though I'm sure I'll cross him again, I won't be foolish enough to be caught._

Narcissa turned to face Odette as the latter reentered the room.

"Now do you plan to tell me how this happened?"

"I feel it's probably safer for you if I don't. Besides, I'm sure you already suspect the truth."

Odette sighed. "I had a feeling you wouldn't want to discuss it. Please forgive me for this."

Narcissa's lips twisted downward. "For what?"

Odette moved toward the door to the corridor and turned the knob, pulling the door open and taking a step into the corridor. She made a beckoning gesture with her hand and then faced Narcissa once again.

"I've done what I can," said Odette, "and if you need anything else, please don't hesitate to tell me. We're in this together, you know. And by the way, I checked on the baby while I was healing you. He or she is fine."

 _Thank Merlin._ Narcissa opened her mouth to speak, but her voice died in her throat as her sister-in-law strode into the room, Lara's grey eyes wide with alarm. Narcissa glanced to Odette, who avoided her gaze and departed. She was left with Lara, who carried a rather large, white bag on her shoulder.

"You don't need to worry," said Narcissa preemptively. "I'm all right, and so is the baby."

"Yes, _now._ " Lara let out an exasperated sigh and nodded toward the bed. "Sit down. You need to be resting."

"Lara, really, I'm—"

" _Cissy._ Please."

Resigning herself to the fact that Lara was roughly as likely to yield on the subject as her brother would've been, Narcissa took a seat at the edge of the bed. Lara sat beside her, shifting the bag she carried onto the floor at their feet.

"Tell me what happened. Odette only said you'd been hurt and that she was afraid for your safety because you were injured here." Lara's voice was tense, rushed with the emotion she appeared to be fighting to keep in check, and at the sight of the concern in the eyes that looked so much like her husband's, Narcissa's stomach twisted. She found herself unable to lie, at least completely. She would withhold details that were unnecessary to share, but she couldn't deny who was responsible for her injuries.

"I upset the Dark Lord," she said at last, her tone hard and bitter. "He made it clear that he doesn't take well to disappointment."

"What did he do to you?"

"He threw me into a table. I'm fine, Lara. Odette healed the cuts, and I'm feeling better. Really." Narcissa reached out to take her sister-in-law's hands and give them a reassuring squeeze, trying to convince herself simultaneously of the truth of her words.

"This isn't right. He shouldn't be able to—"

"I know. But at the moment, there's nothing to be done about it, so let's just… be glad everything's all right."

"But it isn't—"

"What was that?"

Narcissa frowned, glancing down at the floor and the movement she'd felt near her feet. Lara closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Well, I'd decided you needed company around here to keep you somewhat sane. No offense, but I can't imagine Bellatrix helps with that. I hadn't planned to bring her tonight, but when I heard from Odette, I decided I might as well."

"Her?" Narcissa repeated, leaning forward to better examine the bag resting on the floor beside her, which, she now realized, was stirring. "Lara, what did you do?"

"I think the proper phrase is 'Thank you,' actually." Lara leaned down to reach into the bag and lift from it a small cat. The animal's fur was of a light brown and was covered in dark brown spots ringed in black.

"Lara…"

"Just listen to me for a moment, please. I remember you having a cat when Draco was young, and she always made you smile. And I've never seen my brother take to an animal like he did to that cat. So while this is not a solution to all the problems we're dealing with at the moment, I thought… well, at least it's something."

Narcissa watched the little animal wriggle out of Lara's grip and pad across the bed toward where she herself sat. The kitten's whiskers twitched as she sniffed the air, and Narcissa gathered from the animal's size that she was only a few months of age. The cat would be able to grow up alongside the baby, as the one Narcissa had named Artemis had done with Draco.

 _Perhaps Lara's right. This might be what I need, right now._

"Thank you," said Narcissa, extending a hand slowly to allow the cat to sniff it without being startled by a sudden movement. "Really. I'm sure she'll make great company. But remember that you're welcome to visit anytime. I know you must be feeling the same way I am—" _Minus the interference of a certain snake,_ she added mentally. "—and you don't need to deal with it alone any more than I do. You can help me take care of this one, when you stop by." Narcissa scratched the kitten behind the ears, and the animal began to purr.

"I'd enjoy that," said Lara, smiling softly as she glanced from Narcissa to the cat and back again.

"And then when we find a way to bring Lucius home, we can see if he bonds with this one like he did with Artemis."

"Is that optimism? Be still my heart…"

"It'll disappear very quickly if you tease me." Despite her words, Narcissa found a smile creeping onto her lips. Though she was mildly frustrated that Odette had told anyone what had happened, Lara's concern was, undeniably, a comfort.

"That does remind me, though: I have a few friends left within the Ministry, and I've received word that they are no longer reading the letters between the two of you."

Narcissa froze. The pause in her hand's motion led the kitten to bump her nose against Narcissa's fingers.

"What do you mean?"

"Certain sources may have threatened to pull funding from the departments they support if the unnecessary invasion of your privacy continued, especially considering the Aurors have yet to learn anything from the letters or from invading the Manor."

"And by 'certain sources,' you mean…"

"Well, Mother, for one. Several other families we're connected to. We still have power, Narcissa. It just may not be as obvious as it once was."

"That's… wonderful to know," said Narcissa. The idea of being able to speak freely in her letters was one she felt was too good to be true, but she told herself she needed to at least attempt to believe it was possible. "I can't thank you enough."

"You don't need to thank me. Just take care of yourself." Lara stood, stretching her arms over her head before glancing toward the door. "I'll let you rest. There are supplies in the bag, by the way."

"I'll see you soon."

Lara gave the cat a pat on the head before making her way to the door, which she closed behind her as she stepped into the hall.

Narcissa leaned backward, lying down and staring above her. _'We still have power.' Perhaps._ She felt a pawing at her sleeve, and she glanced toward her new companion.

"Well, welcome home," she said quietly.


	19. Troubles

Chapter Nineteen- Troubles

' _Focus on keeping your thoughts clear. That's the first step.'_

Narcissa drew in a long, calming breath. Her eyes were closed against the light entering through the drawing room windows, and though she'd only read the words in one of her husband's letters, she tried to imagine them spoken in his voice in order to bring him closer in whatever way she could.

When she'd written, she hadn't gone into detail about why she needed to learn to guard her mind. Though the Aurors had supposedly stopped monitoring the letters, Narcissa didn't completely believe that they wouldn't begin again, and either way, mentioning the Dark Lord by name seemed a poor choice. She'd referred to him only as ' _our friend_ ' and had stated that he'd given her reason to suspect that he didn't entirely trust her, which had led her to believe her thoughts might be in danger of unwanted perusal. She knew Lucius was skilled in Legilimency, and she'd hoped he could teach her enough about Occlumency to help her conceal her often-mutinous thoughts in the presence of the Dark Lord.

She forced memories of her frequent, unwanted guest from her mind and focused on being present in this moment. She felt the smooth wooden arms of the chair in which she sat as her hands tightened on them, and she heard the steady ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner. She let out a long breath and pulled in another, instructing herself to focus on the movement of the air and on nothing else.

Narcissa tensed at a sudden pressure on her knees, and a moment later, she felt the brush of fur against her hand.

"Athena, your timing is awful."

Narcissa opened her eyes as the cat bumped her arm, demanding attention. Smiling with a shake of her head, Narcissa reached out to trail her fingers down Athena's back. She had to admit that Lara had had the right idea; though the kitten didn't begin to make up for the absence of Lucius and Draco, her company was more than welcomed, and Narcissa had found herself attached to the animal immediately. She'd had the peacocks, already, but they remained out on the grounds and were less than affectionate, unlike Athena, who was presently rubbing her cheek against Narcissa's hand.

"It's not exactly easy to keep a clear mind with you distracting me." Despite her words, Narcissa's tone was warm. While she stroked Athena's back with one hand, she reached for the letter sitting beside her on the table with the other and began to read it for what must've been at least the fifth time.

* * *

 _Narcissa,_

 _It troubles me that you have to deal with our friend. Whatever difficulty he has caused you, I know I'm to blame, and I cannot begin to apologize enough for dragging you into this mess. The very least I can do is help you prepare to deal with it._

 _Focus on keeping your thoughts clear. That's the first step. Empty your mind of anything you don't want stolen from it when he's nearby. Eventually, you'll need to master suppressing altogether any thoughts that might lead him to believe you're deceiving him. Creating new mental associations that will direct your mind in a less dangerous direction will benefit you greatly. You'll need to be able to redirect your thoughts at a moment's notice without giving any outward sign that you were thinking something dangerous. But start with clearing your mind and teaching yourself to remain or at least appear calm even when you're frightened. I know you can handle this. You shouldn't have to, and I'm sorry that all of this has fallen on you. You deserve so much better._

 _Yours always,_

 _Lucius x_

* * *

No matter how many times she insisted that she didn't blame him, Narcissa knew Lucius wasn't likely to stop blaming himself for the situation at hand. She wanted nothing more than to charge into Azkaban and see him, to force him to look at her and understand that she was completely serious about everything she'd told him for roughly twenty years— _I understand that you regret joining him, but it's him that I blame for everything, not you. You took what you thought was the best path to protect our family._

She replaced the letter on the table and laid her hand over her stomach. _As soon as you're here, little one, I can visit Daddy again. But we have to keep you safe._

"I wondered where you'd gone off to."

Narcissa glanced toward the door to find Bellatrix standing on the threshold. Athena leapt from her spot on Narcissa's lap to pad across the floor and sniff at the hem of Bellatrix's skirt, and Bellatrix watched the cat with a raised brow.

"I still can't believe Lara just left her here without asking you first," said Bellatrix, shaking her head.

"She was trying to help."

"I don't doubt that, but I do question her methods. And you have a letter." Bellatrix stepped forward, Athena trailing her and batting at her skirt as she moved. Narcissa couldn't stop herself from smiling at the sight, but the expression fell away when she noted the look of disgust on Bellatrix's face as she offered Narcissa the letter.

"What is it?" The moment after Narcissa had asked, however, she understood; she recognized the seal on the letter as belonging to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. For all their disagreements, Bellatrix and Lucius held the same opinion on at least one matter: their dislike of Albus Dumbledore and his methods of governing the school. Bellatrix had come to equate Hogwarts with Dumbledore and with what she considered a sickening tolerance for Muggles.

 _I'm certain she's thrilled with Draco's task,_ thought Narcissa. She opened the envelope to produce a sheet of parchment that was, in fact, signed by the Headmaster himself.

* * *

 _Dear Mrs. Malfoy,_

 _I am writing to inform you of a distressing event that has taken place involving a Hogwarts student. I wish to keep parents apprised of these situations personally so that you may hear as much of the truth as I currently know and will not be limited to what can be gleaned from rumors._

 _Gryffindor student Katie Bell was brought into contact with a necklace that our investigation has proven was cursed. It is unknown at this time how Miss Bell acquired the necklace or for whom it was intended, but Miss Bell is under the care of Madam Pomfrey and is expected to recover fully from the damage she sustained._

 _As always, Hogwarts is concerned first and foremost with the safety of its students. I assure you that the staff is doing everything within its power to determine the cause of this and to keep anything of its kind from happening again._

 _Yours most sincerely,_

 _Albus Dumbledore_

* * *

"What does it say?" asked Bellatrix. Narcissa said nothing, instead passing the letter to her sister, who began to study it with a frown. Eventually, Bellatrix looked up to meet Narcissa's eyes. "Right," she said flatly. "Concerned with the students. Of course he only wants what's best and wants to keep everyone informed." Bellatrix scoffed. "He's just trying to preserve his image. I doubt he really gives a damn about what happened to the girl."

"But if someone's going around cursing students," said Narcissa, "Draco could be in danger. Or…" Her face fell, the thought that had crossed her mind at once horrifying and plausible. _Why would someone be randomly attacking Hogwarts students? It wouldn't make sense. That necklace was meant for someone._ "…or he is the danger," Narcissa breathed.

"Cissy…"

"Was this Draco trying to get to Dumbledore?" Narcissa slid to her feet, folding her arms over her chest and clutching the parchment tightly. "Is this what you planned? Having him do something that could get him exposed and make him a target? There have to be thousands of ways to go about this that would draw less attention than—"

"I can't tell you any more than you already know!" Bellatrix let out a frustrated sigh. "Anything you learn is just going to agitate you, and I will not give you reason to get on worse terms with the Dark Lord."

Narcissa frowned. She hadn't told her sister what had transpired with the Dark Lord. When she already felt that so much of the control she'd possessed over her life was slipping away, she didn't want to show more weakness than necessary, nor did she want to face a lecture about putting herself in unnecessary danger by making questionable decisions and trying his patience.

Several seconds passed in silence, and then Bellatrix spoke again, her tone softening. "He had me clean up the glass." She held Narcissa's gaze for another moment and then drew the younger woman into an embrace. "I'm sorry," said Bellatrix quietly. "I never wanted you to be in danger. If I'd known that my coming here would—"

"No." Narcissa returned her sister's hug, resting her chin on Bellatrix's shoulder. "I wouldn't have you stay anywhere else."

"Thank you." Bellatrix drew back and laid a hand on Narcissa's arm.

Narcissa nodded. She didn't plan to press Bellatrix on the matter of Draco's task, but she would not allow the matter to rest that easily. She had already begun to plan what she would say when she wrote Draco, and if all else failed and he would not open up to her, perhaps she could enlist the help of Severus.

 _I will find out the truth,_ she thought. _I don't care what it takes._


	20. Alliance

Chapter Twenty- Alliance

 _Mum,_

 _Stop worrying. I'm fine. Everything is fine._

* * *

Narcissa stared at the top of Draco's letter, rereading the opening lines several times as she tried to convince herself to move on to the next paragraph. It was clear even in writing that he was being short with her, which she didn't appreciate in the slightest, but she hoped he was, at least, being sincere. As much as she wanted to believe that everything was all right on his end, though, she doubted he would tell her if it wasn't.

With a light sigh, she continued reading.

* * *

 _I don't know why Dumbledore decided to worry you with news of what happened to that Bell girl—it doesn't mean the rest of us are in danger. I can assure you that I'm not. You don't need to check up on me; I promise, I'm doing well. Take care of yourself and my brother or sister._

 _Draco_

* * *

Narcissa folded the letter and slipped it into the box she'd laid out on her vanity, sliding the parchment in between two of the letters she'd received from Lucius. She'd never imagined that ink and parchment would be all she had left of the two most important men in her life. She closed her eyes and took a series of deep breaths, resisting the urge to let herself weep. Draco clearly neither anticipated nor wanted a reply, and Narcissa was still awaiting a response to the latest owl she'd sent her husband, which both worried her and told her that burdening him with something else was a terrible idea. Still, she couldn't sit back and do nothing. She had to act.

* * *

"Thank you for agreeing to see me, Severus," said Narcissa, stepping into the office as Severus closed the door behind her.

"Of course," he said, nodding. "Please, have a seat." He gestured to the chair in front of his desk and settled into the one behind it. As she sat, Narcissa watched him fold his hands on the desk's surface. Severus sighed. "You said in your letter that this is about Draco?"

Narcissa nodded. "I'm concerned for him."

"I can see why, given the circumstances. But what has brought you so suddenly to me?"

Narcissa clasped her hands in her lap and glanced down at them. "I received an owl from Dumbledore that a girl had been cursed. He said he didn't know who the object was meant for, but that he'd be looking out for the safety of the students." Narcissa inhaled deeply. "Is my son in danger?"

"No," said Severus flatly.

Narcissa raised a brow. "I want to know why you're so sure of this."

"Because your son cursed the necklace."

Narcissa felt as though she'd been doused with cold water. Though she'd suspected that the cursed necklace might've been an attempt of Draco's to fulfill his mission for the Dark Lord, hearing someone else speak the words with such certainty was devastating. Sickening. She knew Draco had no choice but to go through with what had been requested of him, but the idea that her little boy—the one she'd rocked to sleep each night when he was barely old enough to sit up on his own, the one who had clung to her so tightly when he'd been terrified of the thunder crashing outside and shaking the windows—was willingly hurting someone… It was enough to make her positively ill.

"Not successfully," Severus added, as though that would somehow alleviate the pain Narcissa was feeling. "The Bell girl will be fine."

Narcissa rested her elbow on the arm of the chair and lowered her face into her hand, closing her eyes. "I can't believe he did this," she breathed.

"You know as well as I that he doesn't have a choice." Severus paused, and when he spoke again, his tone was slightly softer. "Draco is going to be all right, Narcissa. I promise you."

She lifted her head to meet his dark eyes. "I want to believe you," she said. "I really do."

"Then believe me," Severus insisted. "I promised you I would take care of this, and I will do so."

"Then will you please—" Narcissa cut herself off, unsure of what exactly she wanted to ask but knowing she needed help from someone able to be close to Draco when she couldn't. "I don't know, advise him? Help him to find a way to do this that won't get him harmed or caught and won't lead to anyone else being hurt? I know—" She sighed. "I know Draco wouldn't want that." Even though he'd refused to be honest with her about what had happened, Narcissa knew at least that much was true. Draco had never picked a fight with someone he hadn't believed had wronged him in some way, and she'd never heard the Bell girl's name before it had appeared in Dumbledore's letter. Narcissa knew Draco wouldn't have chosen to harm her. She knew that her son was simply unskilled in the arts of both murder and subtlety, and she had no idea how to begin to help him on her own.

Severus lifted his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. A moment of silence passed.

"You know," he said at last, "what a precarious position I'm in, do you not?"

"I know. I know you have to keep Dumbledore on your side, and if it wasn't absolutely imperative to my son's safety, I wouldn't—"

"I didn't decline," Severus pressed on, shaking his head. "I just want you to understand that this is a delicate situation and one that cannot simply be mastered overnight."

Relief washed over Narcissa, and she bowed her head in thanks. "I can't begin to describe how much this means to me. Lucius would be so glad to know that—" The words died in her throat. _He would,_ she thought, _if he knew what Draco was tasked with doing._

"How is he?" The question was hesitant, and Narcissa wondered whether that was because Severus was ill-equipped to handle the emotions of the situation or because he was only asking out of obligation.

Narcissa shrugged. "I wish I knew. I haven't received a reply to my latest letter, yet, and… I just wish I could see him."

Severus raised a brow. "Why can't you?"

"He requested that I keep my distance from Azkaban for the sake of the baby."

"Ah," said Severus with a nod, the corners of his lips turning downward slightly. "So the _Prophet_ wasn't making that up, I see."

"No. I've just been trying to keep as quiet as I can about things because I can't handle more interference in my life, right now. The Aurors already raided my home and took Lucius's letters once and almost didn't give them back, I've got someone who appears in my home whenever he—" Narcissa bit the inside of her cheek, mentally cursing herself for letting her stresses wear her down enough to even consider mentioning the Dark Lord to anyone outside of her family. "—and the last thing I need is another camera shoved in my face by people trying to exploit me to save themselves from a slow news day."

"I understand." Severus nodded. "I know your sister doesn't place as much faith in me as she might something poisonous, but I hope you'll believe me when I say that I'm sorry you're going through all of this. Lucius has been my friend since school, and you've always been kind to me. It does me no good to see either of you in pain. It's unfortunate that Draco has been dragged into things he can't begin to comprehend, but you have my word that I'll do whatever I can to ensure he stays out of trouble."

"Thank you," said Narcissa softly. "Thank you very much."

When she'd left the office and had begun to make her way through the dungeons she'd occupied in her years at Hogwarts, she realized the students must've been on a break between lessons. She glanced around at the groups of green-clad boys and girls headed away from and toward the Slytherin Common Room, searching out the familiar white-blond hair among the crowd. She leaned against the wall and watched the students pass, and her hand drifted unconsciously to her stomach. _Will you be in Slytherin?_ she wondered. _Like all of us? Or will you get to experience some other part of this castle that we know nothing about?_

Narcissa watched as the crowd surrounding her grew thin and faded into nothingness, and she looked once more down the corridor in each direction, wondering whether she'd missed her chance to spot Draco.

Then there he was.

Even from the back he was unmistakable. He was bracing himself against the opposite wall several doorways along the corridor to her right, and from where Narcissa stood, her son appeared to be trembling. She started toward him, but before she'd made it more than three paces, he'd disappeared around a corner. Picking up her pace to a near-jog, she reached the corner in a matter of seconds, but when she scanned to corridor, she found it empty.


	21. Reunion

**A/N: Surprise!**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-One- Reunion

 _Narcissa,_

 _It's too dark. I've never been bothered by the dark until this place. The shadows seem to go on forever, and they move._

 _I'm trying to remember what it's like out there. I know there's sunlight and wind and, above all, there's you. I would give anything to be home with you and our children._

 _I've lost track of the days. The more I try to sleep to pass the time, the easier it is to forget how long it's been. The tick marks I've made on the ceiling just stop, and I'm furious with myself for being unable to continue._

 _I love you. I miss you constantly._

 _Lucius x_

* * *

Weeks had passed since the last letter, and when this one had arrived, Narcissa hadn't made it to the nearest chair before ripping open the envelope. Instead, she'd torn it open at the bedroom window, the owl still hovering and watching her with wide eyes as she'd read the words she'd dreaded hearing. Just as she'd feared, Lucius was losing hope. She knew that must've been why his responses had become less frequent, despite the fact that she'd taken to owling him every other day in an attempt to do what little she could to help him while stuck so far from him.

In the months since her husband's imprisonment and her son's departure for school, Narcissa had secluded herself almost entirely, leaving Malfoy Manor only when absolutely necessary and trying to keep herself together through visits with her sister-in-law and the sister who had taken up residence within the Manor. As she pulled fresh parchment from within her desk and sat down to reach for a quill, she heard Bellatrix's voice from the doorway.

"Did he finally write?"

Narcissa nodded, letting out a sigh. "He doesn't sound well, Bella. Not at all."

"I can't imagine he would, in a place like that."

Narcissa glanced to her sister, and in the frown that Bellatrix shook a way a moment after their eyes met, Narcissa saw the shadow of Azkaban that still loomed over the eldest Black. Bellatrix never spoke of her imprisonment, and Narcissa didn't want to push her, but she wondered now as she had many times before whether talking about what had happened over the years they'd been separated would benefit her sister.

"Bella, do you… is there anything you want to…?"

Bellatrix shook her head, her jaw tightening. "It's over. I'm not going back there," she said flatly. "I don't want to think about it."

Narcissa's heart ached at the pain she knew her sister had to be experiencing, but she forced herself to nod once again. She knew pressuring Bellatrix to change her mind on any given issue was never an easy task, and those who attempted it more often than not were left with some sort of scar from the foolish decision.

"If you want to go ahead to the nursery," she said, "I'll be right behind you. I want to owl Lucius, first."

"I'll start trying to assemble it." Without another word, Bellatrix turned on her heel and departed down the corridor.

Narcissa returned her focus to the parchment sitting in front of her and began to write her response.

* * *

 _My Lucius—_

 _I would do anything to keep you from this suffering. It breaks my heart to think of you in such a position, and I truly wish you would reconsider allowing me to visit. I know you're worried for the baby's safety, and so am I, but I promise I would be careful and perhaps I could persuade the staff to keep the dementors at bay and allow me to see you for at least a few minutes._

 _Please try to think on the positives, as hard as they are to find. I can feel our baby growing and moving more every day, and the nursery is almost fully decorated. Our son or daughter is fully healthy, according to Odette, and so is Draco. He hasn't written home often, but when he has, he's assured me that he's fine. I hope you've been able to correspond with him. I've asked Severus to keep a watchful eye on him at Hogwarts; I know I'm being overprotective, but I just want to ensure that our boy is, in fact, safe._

 _You told me that this punishment will not last forever, and I have faith that you were right. We will find a way to free you, and we will be together again. Remember that I love you and always will, and I promise that we will find a way to make things right again._

 _Narcissa_

* * *

She slipped the letter into a fresh envelope, addressed it, and tied it to the leg of the white owl sitting on the sill, which then flew off over the grounds and quickly out of her line of sight. Narcissa drew herself up from the chair, resting a hand on her heavily-protruding belly and making her way from the room and down the corridor toward the nursery. At nearly seven months along in her pregnancy, she found herself more anxious by the day to meet the child she so often felt shifting within her. In such a dark time, the baby was an indescribable blessing, and Narcissa was severely comforted by his or her presence and the constant reminder of the love between Lucius and herself. She was increasingly curious about what the baby's gender would be, but she thought that keeping that detail a surprise gave her something wonderful to look forward to eventually and gave her an opportunity to consider a wider range of names than she would have if she'd been certain.

She knew Lucius had insisted on the baby's middle-name being Narcissa, if the baby turned out to be female, but Narcissa herself was uncertain. She would've preferred to name her child for someone other than herself, though she knew her husband would argue that she'd insisted Draco be named for him. Though she knew in theory that the same principles could be applied, she was more willing to give such an honor to the man she loved more than life itself than to take it of her own choice.

Narcissa heard a series of thuds from several doorways down the corridor, and she picked up her pace, hurrying toward the nursery and through the doorway. Bellatrix stood at the center of the room, a pile of wooden slats on the floor at her feet and a tight-lipped, mutinous expression on her face. The box that had contained the pieces of the crib was overturned a few paces away from her.

"Are you all right?" asked Narcissa, raising a brow.

"Apparently, assembling it with magic isn't as easy as it appeared." Bellatrix sighed irritably and raised her wand, flicking her wrist and causing the wooden pieces to levitate once again. Narcissa watched from the doorway, uncertain as to whether stepping closer was safe when her sister apparently had absolutely no idea what she was doing. She appreciated the effort greatly, however; as long as they avoided the subject of the Dark Lord, things between the two of them had remained rather peaceful.

"Do you want me to help with that?" asked Narcissa.

"No, you don't need to be doing any sort of work, right now. I'll get the blasted thing right. Or set it on fire," Bellatrix muttered.

Narcissa opened her mouth, prepared to protest the idea of burning her child's future bed, but she paused when she heard a cry of her name from what sounded like down the corridor. She frowned.

"Lara?" she called back, turning and making her way back out of the room at the same moment her sister-in-law came into view, hurrying toward her from the direction of the steps to the first floor. "What's wrong?" asked Narcissa, her eyes widening in panic.

Lara paused in front of her, breathing heavily. "I went to Azkaban to see Mathias. He's fine, but—it's Lucius. He's ill, Cissy. I've never seen him like this before. I'm terribly worried."

After months of barely being able to restrain herself from breaking down and making the trip once again, this was all Narcissa needed to hear. She turned away without another word and made her way back into her chambers, where she collected several bottles of potion ingredients from the shelf and shoved them into the nearest travel bag she could locate.

* * *

"If you do not move from my path, I will not hesitate to become less cordial."

Narcissa thoroughly disregarded the height difference between the pair of Aurors and herself, keeping her shoulders squared, her tone firm, and her hand fully prepared to reach for her wand, if the two didn't allow her to pass.

"Lady Malfoy, you need written permission from—"

"I don't care. There isn't time for your bureaucratic nonsense. If you allow me to see my husband at once, I will do everything in my power to heal his illness and then I will not trouble you again. If not, I am fully prepared to use every resource at my disposal to see that you are both removed from your positions here and never make so much as a Galleon a year again in your lives."

Narcissa hated how easily the threats flowed from her lips. She'd been raised around all sorts of promises for violence and spite, and she'd always done her best not to become her parents. But when her husband was in danger, she would do literally anything it took to aid him.

The Aurors stared at her, the taller one glaring through narrowed eyes as his companion let out a heavy sigh.

"Fine," said the shorter man, shifting over half a step to give her room to pass between them. "But we will hold you to your word."

Narcissa didn't bother replying; she brushed past the two and started deeper into the dark, dank corridors of Azkaban. She'd made it only a few steps when the first scream sounded, and she froze in her tracks, though only for an instant. She shook off the fear that was attempting to settle over her and pushed forward, ignoring the frigid air and the feeling of grime coating her skin when she hadn't touched anything in the vicinity. As she moved between the cells, she cast glances into them, and her stomach twisted at the faces she recognized. Her brother-in-law, Rodolphus Lestrange. Her husband's best friend, Walden Macnair. Had she more time, she would've stopped to check on them, as well, but at the moment, the only idea in her mind was locating Lucius.

She retraced the path she recalled taking upon her first visit to the hellhole through which she now moved, winding her way through the poorly-lit space with its dying candles and water dripping through cracks in the stone ceiling and into puddles on the dirt-coated floor.

 _How can he endure this? I can't imagine a more horrid place._

Narcissa supposed she'd been too distracted by the news of Lucius's capture the last time she'd been here to pay the prison itself much mind, but her months of fretting for him had manifested into a terribly sickening feeling made a hundred times worse by the reality of Azkaban's horrors.

A large shadow shifted at the end of the corridor, gliding steadily closer, and Narcissa turned to the right to slip down another row of cells, pushing thoughts of dementors from her mind and focusing on the sight that now lay before her.

Lucius lay curled up on the inch-thick excuse for a mattress he'd been allotted, his long hair disheveled and concealing his face from view. Even at her distance and with the bars separating them, Narcissa could see that his breaths were shallow and unstable, and it took all of her willpower not to fall to her knees. She reached out to clasp the cold metal bars, pushing her face through the closest pair to the best of her ability.

"Lucius," she breathed, "I'm here."

For a long moment, he was still. He then let out a long sigh that dissolved into a ragged cough, and Narcissa's grip on the bars tightened.

"No, you're not." Lucius's voice was quiet and strained. "It's all in my head."

"It isn't, my love. Look at me, please."

"If I look, you'll go away."

"No, I won't." Narcissa's voice was bordering on hysterical, and it threatened to crack at any moment. "Please, open your eyes. You'll see. It's okay."

With a deep breath and what looked like an agonizing amount of effort, judging by the stiffness of his movements, Lucius lifted his head and looked toward the bars. He froze, his grey eyes widening in what Narcissa recognized as pure shock. _He really thought he was imagining me,_ she thought, and the notion shook her to the core. Did he do so often? Did he picture her here and cling to their letters as desperately as she did as she kept every object in the house arranged exactly as it had been on his departure, trying to preserve the illusion that things were still bearable?

Silence and stillness hung over them for a long moment, and then Lucius rushed forward, pushing himself up from the bed and making his way over to the bars to rest his hands against Narcissa's cheeks and lean down to catch her lips with his own. Narcissa closed her eyes and tried to hold back the tears stinging them as she kissed him as passionately and as desperately as she'd longed to for the months they'd been apart. His hands were cold against her face, but his kiss was every bit as warm as she remembered. Several very long moments passed in which neither moved to draw back, and for that time, Narcissa allowed herself to forget everything else. The fear, the pain, the uncertainty—everything drifted away while her lips were joined with his. Eventually, though, she was reminded of why she had come when Lucius pulled back slightly to turn his head and cough in a direction other than that in which she stood.

"What's happened?" Narcissa asked breathlessly, her heart pounding. "Lara said—darling, you're so pale…"

Lucius shook his head. "I'll be fine. You shouldn't be here, it's not—" He halted in his statement as his gaze landed on her stomach, and the corners of his mouth turned upward as he laid one of his hands on the bump inhabited by their child, his other hand remaining against Narcissa's cheek.

"The baby's fine," said Narcissa, laying her hand on top of the one he'd rested on her stomach. No sooner had the words left her mouth than she felt a kick beneath their joined hands, and Lucius's eyes flicked to hers, shining as though he was trying not to weep. "Everything is going to be fine," she continued, taking the opportunity to observe him. His eyes were sunken and ringed with dark circles, and his skin was pallid and stretched more tightly over his bones than it should've been. She doubted he'd been given any opportunity to exercise, and though he was still muscular, he was less so than he'd been the last time she'd seen him. "Are they feeding you?" she breathed.

"Now and then," he said flatly, his smile fading.

Narcissa shook her head, frowning as she grudgingly removed her hands from his to reach into the bag she carried on her shoulder. She pulled two of the glass vials free from within and passed them to Lucius through the bars.

"Drink these."

"How did you—?"

"They weren't going to keep me from getting to you and bringing what I needed to help," she said simply. "Now drink them, please. Together, they'll start to combat whatever infections you might've gotten being subjected to this madness and work on replenishing what you've lost in terms of nutrition. The leaves of the—"

"Narcissa." Lucius leaned close to press a kiss to her forehead, and Narcissa closed her eyes for a moment to enjoy the sensation. "I don't need to know how it works. I trust you, my rose. And I can't describe how thankful I am that you're here."

"I miss you," said Narcissa quietly, unable to stop the tears from beginning to slip down her cheeks. "Every second."

"And I miss you."

She opened her eyes to watch as he drank the contents of the vials and passed them back to her, and when she'd slipped the containers back into her bag, she reached out to take his hands through the bars.

"There has to be more we can do," she said. "Tell me what to do, who to talk to, how to get you out of here. I'll do anything."

"If I knew, I would tell you." Lucius let out a heavy sigh. "But in the meantime, just protect yourself and our children. I'm not going anywhere."

"I want your word that you'll tell me if you start getting this ill again." There was an edge to Narcissa's words, and she inwardly kicked herself for it, but she hoped Lucius understood that it was only because she'd been so worried for his safety.

"I promise," he assured her, giving her hands a squeeze. "I love you." He released one of her hands to return his to her face, lifting her chin and leaning close to press his lips to hers. They lingered for a long moment, and she returned his kiss, determined to convey all of her love and understanding in one gesture.

"I love you," she breathed when she pulled back a millimeter. "I love you so much."


	22. Birth

**A/N: Warning for everything associated with childbirth.**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Two- Birth

Narcissa had barely crossed the threshold into the foyer when Lara appeared before her, grey eyes wide with panic. Narcissa was trying hard not to let on to how badly she was trembling; she knew Lucius had been right to insist on anti-Apparition shields being raised to surround their property, but in the middle of January when she'd just left a cold, stone prison inhabited by dementors, Narcissa found the walk in from the gates becoming increasingly difficult to bear no matter how many layers she wore. Her black boots rose to her knees beneath her dress and several petticoats, but still, her feet had lost feeling and her teeth were chattering.

"What happened?" asked Lara, pausing in front of where her sister-in-law stood and reaching out to lay a hand on her arm.

"Lucius is starting to feel better," said Narcissa, unfastening her traveling cloak and handing it to Prim when the elf scurried up to her. "I gave him something for whatever was attacking him and for what the food hasn't been giving him, which is… essentially anything of value. It's horrific that the Ministry thinks it can treat people so poorly."

"Mistress must be freezing," the elf squeaked. "Prim will go prepare tea."

Narcissa nodded and watched the elf go before returning her focus to Lara. "I can't believe how much he's changed," she breathed. "What they've done to him. It's madness."

"They act like our husbands are the monsters," said Lara flatly, shaking her head. "And yet the Ministry's people are perfectly fine with starving them and exposing them to whatever hell they see fit. It's sickening."

"I've a mind to strangle Scrimgeour for everything he's—" Narcissa paused, closing her eyes as a pain shot through her lower abdomen and back.

"Cissy? What's wrong?"

Narcissa felt Lara's grip tighten on her arm, and she opened her eyes once more, letting out a long breath.

"I'm fine," she said. "Can we sit down?"

Lara nodded, looping her arm through Narcissa's and guiding her to the drawing room and the chaise within, waiting until she sat before taking the spot beside her.

"Can I get you something?"

"Really, I'm all right," Narcissa insisted. "I've probably just been moving around too much today." She laid her hand on her belly, glancing down at the bump the baby inhabited when she felt movement from within and finding herself smiling at the sensation. She recalled how excited Lucius had been when he'd felt the baby kicking, and she tried not to dwell on how much she wished she could've stayed longer, focusing instead on the idea that he'd been happy while she'd been there with him and that she'd finally had the chance to see him after needing to for so long. "Could you please hand me that book?" Narcissa asked in an attempt to return her thoughts to the present and avoid worrying Lara. She gestured to the end table beside where her sister-in-law sat, and Lara nodded, reaching over to lift the book Narcissa had indicated from the table and passing it to her.

Narcissa looked down at the worn, leather-bound volume of baby names her maternal grandmother had given her upon her wedding. She opened the book to one of the dozens of pages she'd marked with scraps of parchment to hold her place.

" _Ares: Greek god of warfare. From either the Greek 'are,' meaning 'bane, ruin,' or 'arsen,' meaning 'male.'"_

 _As hard as it is to be strong at the moment,_ thought Narcissa, _I want to help the baby to do so in any way I can. Giving him or her a name that inspires strength may not do much in that vein until he or she is old enough to understand, but it could be a good omen all the same._

She flicked through the pages, moving in no particular order to glance at the other names she'd marked.

" _Magdalena: Latinate form of 'Magdalene,' meaning 'of Magdala' or 'tower.' Borne by Christian Saint Mary Magdalene._ "

Over years of exploration of Malfoy Manor's library, Narcissa had studied world religions extensively, and she recalled learning that this particular saint had been maligned and falsely portrayed as a prostitute throughout history when, instead, she'd been an early leader of her church. Narcissa felt a strong connection with the woman who had fought for her beliefs only to be falsely judged and slandered.

" _Rigel: The star forming the left foot of the constellation Orion. Arabic for 'foot.'_ "

This had been among Lucius's suggestions, and Narcissa found herself smiling slightly at his efforts to follow her family's tradition of naming children after stars.

" _Rhea: Latinized form of 'Rheia,' meaning 'unknown.' Greek Titan, wife of Cronus and mother of the Olympians._ "

This had been the name of the grandmother who'd given Narcissa the book; while she hadn't been close with her parents by any stretch of the imagination, Narcissa had cared a great deal for her grandmother.

" _Vega: A star in the constellation Lyra. 'The swooping (eagle)' in Arabic."_

 _Another of Lucius's ideas,_ thought Narcissa. _I should've asked him while I was there which of them he—_

Narcissa winced, her focus splintering at the feeling of another surge of pain, this one stronger than the first. She drew in a long breath and let it out again, closing the book and setting it beside her.

"You're not all right," said Lara. Narcissa looked toward her sister-in-law to find her shaking her head. "Something's going on."

Narcissa stood slowly, preparing to pace the drawing room to calm herself. "Lara, I'm—" Narcissa paused as another sensation passed over her—one she recognized as the trickle of fluid down her legs, which led her to gasp involuntarily.

"What in Merlin's name—?"

"This can't be happening," Narcissa muttered. "It can't be. It's too soon."

"Talk to me, Cissy. What's happening?"

"Lara, my water just broke." Her heart accelerating at a pace that was almost sickening, Narcissa reached out to grip the arm of the chaise in an attempt to steady herself.

Lara's eyes widened, and she made an odd motion, reaching for Narcissa and then drawing back, her shoulders rising and falling rapidly with her breaths. "What do you need? Anything at all, just tell me."

"First of all, I need you to be calm." Narcissa inhaled deeply, ordering herself to do the same. "Everything is going to be fine." _If I tell myself that enough times, perhaps I'll believe it._ "If you will, please walk with me upstairs, and then go get Odette."

Lara nodded hastily, moving close to wrap an arm around Narcissa's waist and guide her out of the drawing room and through the corridors. Narcissa struggled to ignore the pounding of her heart as they moved, willing herself not to focus on how badly this had gone before when labor had been so premature. When they reached her chambers, Narcissa lay down on the bed and stared at the canopy above her, waiting until Lara's footsteps had faded before reaching out to rest her hand on the side of the mattress Lucius would've occupied.

 _I don't know if I can do this without you._

Less than a minute passed before she heard someone's hurried approach, and she glanced to the door, certain that Lara couldn't have had enough time to travel to the Notts' and locate Odette. Instead of either of them, Bellatrix strode briskly into the room, grabbing the chair from Narcissa's vanity and pulling it toward the bed to sit beside where her sister lay.

"When Lara comes back," said Bellatrix, "I'm going to get out of the way."

"Thank you for being here," said Narcissa softly, tears stinging her eyes.

"Of course. Try not to worry."

Narcissa laid her hand on her stomach as another pain seized her, and she couldn't shake away the memory that moved to the forefront of her mind.

* * *

" _Stay with me. Cissy, everything is going to be fine. Help is on its way."_

 _Help should've arrived long before, but Narcissa nodded instead of stating this aloud._

 _"How's Draco?" she breathed instead, struggling to keep her focus on Lucius as he leaned over her despite how blurry her vision was becoming. "Is he all right?"_

 _"He's fine, I promise. Look at him—look at our boy." Lucius shifted to give Narcissa a better view of the infant in his arms, and she smiled faintly at their son before her gaze landed on the massive amounts of blood staining Lucius's white shirt and a wave of nausea rolled through her stomach._

 _"He's perfect," she said, forcing her gaze away from the blood and back to her husband's face. "I'm sorry—you shouldn't have had to—"_

 _"This is not your fault. You held on as long as you could. Cissy—stay with me."_

* * *

 _Her eyelids had begun to flutter, and she tried hard to stay focused. She caught sight of a blur of motion that settled into the form of an elf and a Healer hurrying into the room, and she vaguely registered Lucius's shouts that his wife needed help, and then she lost consciousness._

The scene replayed itself involuntarily throughout the hours that followed, Narcissa's memory of the time even a successful birth had nearly been too much for her taunting her after Lara had returned with Odette and Seraphina and the contractions had become increasingly agonizing and frequent. Bellatrix had fled the room immediately, promising to return after everything had settled down again. Narcissa knew her sister was far from maternal, and she doubted such a high-stress situation was one that would be easy to bear for one still struggling with years of torment. She ordered herself not to be frustrated with Bellatrix for leaving, though it was an order she couldn't completely follow.

The process was much more rapid than the first time Narcissa had given birth, and she thought bitterly of how she should've been accustomed to this, by now. The potions Odette had given her for the pain were far from strong enough to eclipse it completely, though they did make it somewhat more bearable. As she clung to her mother-in-law's hand on one side and her sister-in-law's on the other, begging the gods for the baby's safety, Narcissa wished with the entirety of her being that Lucius was here with her. He'd always been able to ease her mind with just his presence, and when she was so terrified that she was trembling through her pushes, she knew she would've felt more confident with him by her side.

"One more," said Odette urgently, glancing up to meet Narcissa's eyes from where she stood at the foot of the bed. "You can do this. Almost there."

Narcissa nodded shakily and gritted her teeth, squeezing Seraphina's and Lara's hands tightly as she pushed hard and trying unsuccessfully to hold back a cry of pain. The sound died rapidly, however, when her attention was arrested by the sound of another cry of a higher pitch. Narcissa's eyes widened, and she lifted her head only to have Seraphina reach for her shoulder and guide her back to the stack of pillows that had been propped up behind her.

"Don't try to move, love," Seraphina insisted.

"I need to see." Narcissa's voice was weaker than she'd anticipated, the hours of strain having taken more of a toll on her than she'd realized. The room around her had begun to spin, but she paid it no mind. "Let me see, please."

The cry faded, and Narcissa ignored the sweat clinging to her skin and the exhaustion that had settled over her and tuned out everyone apart from Odette, who had turned away from her. Narcissa's heart thudded against her ribs as she waited, and at last, Odette turned toward her once again, smiling. She made her way around to the side of the bed closest to where Narcissa lay, carrying a small bundle of blankets that held an even smaller blond-haired infant.

"It's a girl," said Odette, holding the baby out to Narcissa, who released her hold on both Lara and Seraphina and took her daughter into her arms, unable to stop a relieved sob from working its way from her lungs as she looked down at the child. The girl was squirming slightly, a frown set on her tiny face and her fists clenching and releasing. She was apparently adjusting to her new surroundings, but she was… breathing. Moving.

Alive.

Narcissa leaned down to press a kiss to her daughter's forehead, tears streaming from her eyes. "You're all right," she muttered. "You're going to be just fine."

"The stress of traveling to Azkaban combined with all of the strain you were already under brought her early," said Odette, shaking her head. "You're both very, very lucky."

"Yes, we are," Narcissa breathed, holding her daughter closer to her chest.

"What are you going to call her?" asked Lara.

 _I really wish I'd asked Lucius for a final opinion while I had the chance. But I know one thing he'd insist on, and I can't refuse him._

"Magdalena Narcissa Malfoy."


	23. Fear

**A/N: Please don't use any Unforgivables on me for this one. Narcissa thinks it's necessary. Also, I recommend reading my friend _justforpractice_ 's stories (she's awesome). **

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Three- Fear

 _She has his eyes, thank the gods._

Narcissa hadn't let her daughter out of her sight while she'd been awake. Even when she'd given in to exhaustion and allowed herself to sleep, she'd done so with Magdalena in the master bedroom. She'd had meals brought to her chambers and avoided leaving as she'd mentally worked toward a solution to the problem that she had to focus on now that she knew her daughter was healthy: how was Magdalena going to remain safe? The Dark Lord had stated a claim on her before her birth, and as Narcissa sat on her bed with her back resting against the pillows and stared down into the eyes that mirrored her husband's, she realized she absolutely could not bear the idea of Magdalena facing the same life of servitude as her father and brother.

Narcissa had avoided venturing out into her home over the last two days for fear of crossing paths with the Dark Lord. The longer she stalled in allowing him to meet her daughter, the safer the girl would be. But how long could this last?

 _He's just going to barge in here eventually. He'll realize I haven't been around to intimidate in a while, and he'll grow tired of it._

Magdalena shifted in her mother's arms, her tiny hand reaching out to grasp one of the buttons on Narcissa's dress. Narcissa leaned down to press a kiss to her daughter's forehead.

"I don't know what to do," she breathed. "You deserve so much better than this life."

She clung to her child—this beautiful, unprecedented miracle—and wept. If Magdalena—Lena, as Narcissa had taken to calling her—was going to remain out of the Dark Lord's reach, Narcissa knew what she had to do, and the thought made her ill.

 _I have to be strong. For her. I can't let him hurt her._

"I love you," she said softly, her hands trembling as her fingertips traced her daughter's cheek. "I love you so much."

* * *

Narcissa raised her fist to knock on the thin wooden door, and in the time it took her to reach out, hundreds of reasons sprang to mind for turning around and returning home without going through with this. _She doesn't want to see me. I wouldn't want to see me, after everything that's happened. I know I should've done something to defend her when I had the chance. But would they have listened to me? They never did about anything else. I was a child—I didn't know what to do._

She glanced down at the tiny girl sleeping in her arms and drew herself up straighter. _I couldn't protect my sister, but I will not fail my daughter._

Narcissa knocked on the door and strained her ears in the silence that followed. Several seconds passed, and then she heard shifting from the room within. She held tighter to Magdalena and waited, and at last, the door opened.

Andromeda looked remarkably close to the way she had the last time Narcissa had seen her so many years previously. The same brown eyes stared at her—wide now in what looked like alarm as she clutched the door and kept it only half-open—from the same pale, angular face that so strongly resembled their other sister and was reminiscent of Narcissa's own. Andromeda's features had matured since Narcissa had last seen her sister, but Andromeda was still unmistakably a Black.

"I swear I have a good reason for bothering you," said Narcissa.

Andromeda drew in a long breath and looked downward, and at the sight of the child in her sister's arms, her lips pressed into a tight line. "Come on." She took a step backward and opened the door fully, beckoning Narcissa forward with a wave of her hand.

Relief flooded through Narcissa, and she crossed the threshold. She wasn't entirely certain what she'd been expecting; Andromeda had never been the type to turn away someone in need, and despite the distance their parents had created between them by disowning their middle daughter, Narcissa hoped that her sister hadn't turned against her completely. She followed Andromeda through a narrow hallway and into a drawing room decorated in shades of gold and blue. Andromeda gestured to a sofa striped in varying blue hues, and Narcissa sat down at its edge, careful not to jostle Magdalena. Andromeda settled into an armchair and rolled her shoulders back before meeting her sister's eyes.

"What's happened?" she asked.

"I don't know where to begin." Narcissa knew that probably sounded like an attempt to dodge the question, but it was the truth; she had no idea how much of her life her sister had kept up with or read about in the gossip columns, and she didn't know which details were relevant to what had brought her here. To Narcissa, every event that had taken place since Andromeda's departure from their childhood home had been connected and had led her to this moment, but to Andromeda, the finer points were probably irrelevant.

"Yours?" Andromeda inclined her head to Magdalena, and Narcissa nodded. "I heard you were expecting. Well, I read about it in the _Prophet._ " Andromeda let out a flat laugh and shook her head. "I can't believe that's what we are, now. So far apart that I have to find out from the papers that you're having a baby."

Narcissa looked down at her daughter, who had awoken and who was watching her with wide eyes. The girl reached out and gave her mother's hair a light tug, and Narcissa couldn't stop herself from smiling. She kept her focus on her daughter for several moments longer, memorizing every detail, from her small, round nose to the rosiness of her complexion to the dimple in her right cheek. At last, Narcissa managed to force herself to look to her sister once again. Andromeda's face had fallen in the time in which Narcissa hadn't been watching.

"What's wrong? Narcissa, you wouldn't be here if everything was all right."

"I'm very worried about her," said Narcissa. "I'm going to be honest with you, and please, _please_ , hold your judgments until I'm finished. I know you don't approve of much of what we've done or become. I know you and Lucius are about as opposite as possible when it comes to philosophy and that you don't agree with what he's fought for. I want you to know, though, that _I_ don't agree with what our parents did to you."

Andromeda frowned and blinked, opening her mouth, but Narcissa continued.

"I'm not going to go into the specifics of blood and what I think about that, because it's not important, right now. I don't think they should've tossed you out of our lives regardless, and I'm sorry that I couldn't do anything to stop them."

"Couldn't or wouldn't?" Andromeda's voice was tight, and the quickness with which she closed her mouth after speaking suggested that she hadn't meant to let the words leave her lips.

"Andromeda, I was sixteen, and I was absolutely terrified. I was just as scared of our parents as you were, and I didn't know how to fight back without facing the same thing or something worse. You got away and you made a life for yourself. Bella had already moved out—who do you think dealt with their anger, when you left?"

Andromeda closed her eyes. "I never wanted that.'

"I know you didn't, and that's why I don't blame you. I blame them, just like I always have. None of this is the point, Andi. I just wanted you to know that I didn't support them in treating you so poorly."

Andromeda opened her eyes, and her expression softened. "I appreciate that."

"I'm here because I need your help," said Narcissa. The words tasted wrong, but she couldn't avoid them. She knew this was the best option available to her, if it truly was available. "I'm not supposed to discuss this with anyone, but I need you to understand the gravity of my situation: the Dark Lord has invited himself to stay in my home whenever he wishes, and he's already informed me that my daughter is going to enter his service as soon as she's able. I can't let that happen. He's already got the rest of us—Lucius is stuck in Azkaban for his sake, and Draco, my son—" Narcissa broke off with a shake of her head, fighting hard to swallow the lump in her throat. She didn't want to allow herself to cry in front of her sister after so long. _I haven't earned that right,_ she thought. "He's made Draco into a Death Eater, as well."

"What?" Andromeda blurted, her hands tightening on the arms of her chair. "But he's still in school, isn't he?"

"Yes, but it doesn't matter—the Dark Lord decided he wanted him, and none of us had the option to refuse him. You have to understand: when he wants something, he gets it. If he gets angry for even the slightest offense, he lashes out. I listened in on a conversation he had with Bellatrix, and—"

"Cissy, why would you—?"

"—he threw me into a table. He uses Unforgivables just because he can. I can't let her be subjected to that, Andi, I can't. We were so lucky she survived. She came two months early, and after how much trouble we've gone through having children, I was so scared something would go wrong. I have to protect her, even if that means—" Narcissa looked down at her daughter's face, no longer able to hold back her tears, as much as she wished she could. They streamed down her cheeks and onto the blanket she'd wrapped around Magdalena before leaving home. It was pale blue and had been her Narcissa's own as a child, and she wanted her daughter to have something of hers no matter how much distance was between them. "—even if that means she can't stay at home, right now."

When Narcissa looked up again, Andromeda's gaze was sympathetic.

"I'm not asking you to shield her forever. But do you think you could forgive me enough to let her stay with you? It would mean letting me come by as often as I can get away to feed her—I'd leave milk with you, but I'd still want to do it myself; I refuse to let him take that from me. I know Ted won't be thrilled to see me, and I could come when he's out, if it would be easier, but—"

"Why me?" There was no anger in Andromeda's question, only confusion. "After so long, why turn to me?"

"I can't take her to Lara or Sera—the Dark Lord knows where they live, and they're as entrenched in his world as I am. He has no idea where you are, and he would never be able to comprehend that we had any sort of contact. He wouldn't understand, and that means that Lena would be safe. And whether you believe it or not, I do trust you."

"Aren't you afraid that he'll try to get where she is out of you?"

Narcissa inhaled deeply and let out the breath. "I've been shut in my room essentially since she was born, so she's been seen by very few people. She's safer if we let everyone think she didn't make it." As she spoke the words, Narcissa held tighter to her daughter. She hated the idea of even lying about such a terrible notion, but if it would keep people from looking for Magdalena, she knew it was necessary. "I've been practicing Occlumency. I doubt I've learned enough to be able to lie to the Dark Lord's face if he were to ask, but if I avoid the subject and keep my thoughts on other things when he's around, perhaps he'll believe it." _If he sees how upset I am, I hope he'll think that's why and not the fact that I've had to willingly separate myself from her._ "It's just until things become safer at home. I want to bring her back as soon as possible." Narcissa leaned down to kiss Magdalena's nose.

Andromeda was silent for several moments, and then she pushed herself to her feet, making her way over to stand beside her sister and lean down to look at her niece. Narcissa watched her sister's face carefully, and when a small smile crept onto Andromeda's lips, a wave of relief swept over Narcissa.

"All right," said Andromeda at last. "I'll make sure she stays safe."

Narcissa reached out to take her sister's hand and squeeze it tightly. "Thank you. What can I do to repay you?"

"Just keep yourself safe, as well. I don't want to have to tell her that her mother isn't coming back, and I'd rather not lose you twice."

Narcissa gave Andromeda's hand another squeeze and then released it to wipe the tears from her own eyes with a shake of her head. "You won't."

She returned her focus to the child in her arms. She knew she had to leave soon, but for right now, she planned to enjoy as long as she could with her daughter.


	24. Vows

**A/N: Thanks to my friend justforpractice for working with me on this chapter through 26.**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Four- Vows

 _My darling Narcissa,_

 _I've just received the news about our child, and my heart is filled with grief and sadness. I can't imagine the pain you're in right now, but I want you to know that even though I'm not there, you're in my heart, always. I don't know how that reporter found out the news, but I assure you that when I'm given the opportunity, we will have words. I want you to know how much I truly love you and how thankful I am that you've stuck by me all this time. However, I believe that you've suffered enough because of me, and, therefore, I must let you go. You and Draco deserve far better than me. I'm sorry I wasn't able to be the man you needed._

 _I love you, my rose. Always and forever._

 _Yours,_  
 _Lucius x_

* * *

When the letter arrived, Narcissa stared at it for several minutes. At first, she couldn't comprehend, couldn't make herself process what she was seeing. Before she realized what was happening, her tears were flowing into the parchment and mingling with the ink. Someone had leaked to the media that Narcissa had lost the baby? Narcissa had been blatantly avoiding reading the paper after the reporter had accosted her at the Ministry, and the thought of the cover story that had only been meant to keep the Dark Lord at bay leaking to the outside world made her positively ill. Not nearly as much, though, as the idea that Lucius thought she and Draco would be better off without him.

She sent the owl back without a reply and got up from her dresser, pulling on her traveling cloak and departing immediately for Azkaban without bothering to tell Bellatrix where she was going. She ignored the cold of the January air and the bitterness of the water as it slapped against what was exposed of her skin as the small boat carried her out to the stone fortress—her mind was only on her husband. When she reached the Aurors at the prison's heavy gates, she braced herself for their taunts and ordered herself not to be bothered despite the fact that she could already hear them snickering.

"I need to see my husband."

"Heard about the baby, Malfoy," said one of the men. "I send you my congratulations. Now that one won't end up damaged like your boy."

Narcissa glared at the man as coldly as she could manage, her gaze hard enough to cut through stone. "You should be so lucky to be my boy's level of damaged," she muttered. She could never understand how the Aurors had become so cruel or why they thought they could get away with it unpunished. When Lucius was freed, she told herself, and they couldn't punish him for her actions, she would repay them for their torments.

Another Auror, one taller than the first—Narcissa believed she recognized him from her last visit—watched her with narrowed eyes. "I suppose telling you that it's against the rules won't stop you from finding your way in?" he asked in an annoyed drawl.

"No, it won't. It's absolutely imperative, and I couldn't give less of a damn about your rules, at the moment."

The Auror sighed heavily, his facial expressions betraying his disapproval and frustration with Narcissa's persistence. "Very well," he said, grabbing her arm and pulling her through the gates.

Narcissa fought the urge to wrench her arm away from his grasp—she couldn't stand anyone other than Lucius touching her, and she immediately tensed, remaining as far from the Auror as he could as he led her down the dark, cold corridors until they reached her husband's cell. The Auror pushed her forward roughly, and Narcissa let out a pained grunt as her shoulder and arm slammed into the bars.

"What in Merlin's—Cissy!"

She looked up to see Lucius rushing toward her. When he reached the bars, he pushed his hands through them and grabbed onto her as he glared daggers at the Auror, and she moved as close to him as she could despite the iron bars separating them.

"You have ten minutes, Malfoy," the Auror grunted. "And then I send the Dementors." He turned on his heel and started off down the corridor, and Narcissa returned her focus to Lucius, who was surveying her closely.

"Are you—?"

"I'm fine," she said quickly, ignoring the aching of her arm and shoulder from the impact. She drew in a long breath. "What in the world were you—? There is no way that I am allowing you to think I would ever be all right with not being with you. I will not live without you, Lucius. Never again."

As she spoke, she watched his face, and her heart sank at the sight of the tears that had begun to slip from his eyes.

"Cissy, you lost the baby, and it's all my fault. I've caused you pain; I don't want to do that anymore, Narcissa. You don't deserve that."

At his words, she couldn't stop herself from weeping. She reached through the bars and rested her hands on his cheeks, looking him in the eyes. "You haven't hurt me—"

"Yes, yes I have—"

"None of this is your fault. And I didn't lose her. Our baby is alive—she is safe. She's... staying with Andromeda."

"Our baby is—what? Cissy, she's—she's alive? Where—Andromeda?" Lucius was clearly struggling for words and for understanding, and his shoulders trembled with his weeping. "What's her—she's a girl, we have a girl—what's her name?"

Narcissa nodded vehemently, needing him to know she was sincere, that their child was alive and safe. She traced his cheeks with her thumbs to wipe away his tears, and he let out a sigh. Narcissa knew he hadn't experienced a gentle touch since he'd been locked away here apart from the few visits she'd been able to manage. It took a moment for her to find her voice past the emotions choking her. "We do, we have a girl, and she's all right. I gave her my name as a middle, like you wanted. Her name is Magdalena. I thought we might call her Lena, and she can have your initials."

Lucius grinned, and Narcissa thought she might scream with relief at the sight.

"Lena is perfect," he said, "and thank you for giving her your name, as well. What does she look like? How're you? Cissy, are you healthy? What did Odette say?"

Narcissa continued caressing her husband's cheeks, wishing the bars separating them would disappear and she could remove all space keeping her apart from him and return fully to his arms. She missed falling asleep beside him each night and waking to the sight of his face each morning, and she wanted so badly for him to be freed and return home and to their life.

"I'm glad you like it." Narcissa smiled slightly, and she brought one of her hands down from Lucius's face to trace along his chest as well as she could through the bars. "She's beautiful. Her hair's lighter than mine—it's closer to yours—and she has the most precious smile. And she has your eyes, my love. I'll send you a photo as soon as I'm able so you can see what a perfect daughter we have." She traced his cheek with her thumb once more. "I'm all right. She was rather early, and Odette says we're lucky but that we're both going to be okay. I'm feeling a bit drained," she added, knowing he would want the truth, "but that's normal. With some rest, I'll be ready to dance again in no time."

"Are you sure you're all right? That man shouldn't have dared to put his hands on you. If I had my wand..."

Narcissa glanced down at her arm. It, her shoulder, and a portion of her chest had impacted the bars, and she recognized the feeling that would likely lead to bruising. "It doesn't feel pleasant, but I'll be fine. I think he wanted to scare me into not coming back."

Lucius's face fell. "Cissy, you should go before the dementors come. It's not safe for you here. Promise me you'll go home and rest."

Narcissa shook her head, though she knew the gesture was likely futile. "I don't want to leave you here. I don't know if they'll let me in again." She knew he was right and being near the dementors wasn't safe, but she feared leaving him alone again to face their torments and the thoughts that had led him to believe letting her go was a possibility. If he started to think that way again and the Aurors wouldn't allow her to visit and ease his mind, what would happen?

Lucius shook his head. "You must," he said urgently. "Cissy, our children need you. You must go. I'll be all right. I will return home to you." He grabbed her cheeks in his hands, pressing his lips to hers, his kiss deep and full of unrestrained passion. Narcissa poured as much love as she could into the kiss, wanting him to know how much she missed him and that this would never change. "I'm not going anywhere," Lucius insisted as he pulled away. "I'm sorry that I lost sight of the promises—the vows—I made to you."

Narcissa nodded somewhat shakily. With all her heart, she wanted to believe his words. Still, she knew how much this place could wear someone down and how hard the outside world was working to break him, and she couldn't stand the thought of him feeling so desperate again.

Lucius pecked her nose and released his grip on her. "Go, Cissy," he said more firmly, though his tone was still loving. "We have to have faith that I'll get out of this hell and return home to you and our son and daughter soon. I love you, my rose. Always. Always and forever."

"I love you. I love you so much, Lucius, and I just want you to be safe and be able to come home to us." She leaned in to meet his lips once more, caressing his cheek and his chest and wanting more than anything to be able to be close to him and hold him and take away his pain. "I'll send you pictures of our daughter, and I'll make sure she knows how wonderful her father is. I love you, always and forever." Grudgingly, she pulled back from the bars, keeping her eyes on him as long as she could before she had to turn away and start down the corridor.

The Auror who had taken Narcissa to Lucius's cell met her at the exit. "I was just about to send the dementors to come and find you," he said as he pulled her toward the gates.

Narcissa gritted her teeth and bit back the insults and threats that sprang to mind. She couldn't give him a reason to harm Lucius any more than he and the others like him already had. She had half a mind to send a hex at the Auror, but she refrained, if only for her husband's sake.

* * *

When Narcissa returned to Malfoy Manor, she heard voices emanating from the drawing room and did her best to move past it quietly, though she wasn't certain whether she was successful. She wiped at her eyes, hoping to leave no evidence of her emotions.

Her stomach lurched at the sight of the great snake sliding along the floor beside her feet and making its way into the drawing room, and she was preparing to run for her chambers when she heard the Dark Lord's voice.

"Ah, Nagini. How lovely of you to join us, Narcissa… Do come in."

Forcing in a deep breath, she made her way into the drawing room to find the Dark Lord standing beside the window a few paces away from Bellatrix, who looked unsettled. The expression on the Dark Lord's face was likely intended to be a smile, though on him, it looked like a poorly masked threat.

"Yes, My Lord?" asked Narcissa, working to keep her voice even.

"I was asking your sister here where you've been going while I'm away, and she claims she doesn't know. Would you care to tell me?"

Narcissa kept her eyes on the Dark Lord, trying to resist the urge to look at her sister. She'd been working hard to train herself well in the use of half-truths around him—letting him know where she'd gone this time would answer his question without revealing too much, and while he might find her weak for caving and traveling to Azkaban, that was better than letting him know the whole truth of where she'd gone on her last trip out of the house.

"I went to see Lucius, My Lord."

Voldemort's unpleasant smile grew at Narcissa's confession. "I see," he said. "I heard about the demise of your newborn child. I'd expect nothing less of you, Narcissa. You may go." he said.

Narcissa forced her expression to remain neutral despite the fury rising within her at his nonchalance about Magdalena's supposed death. This was not the time to allow her agitation to show.

"Thank you," she muttered. She curtseyed and turned away, glancing briefly at Bellatrix before leaving the room and hurrying down the corridor to the stairs. _At least one portion of the plan worked,_ she thought. She'd told Bellatrix to pass on their cover story to a few of the Death Eaters who'd escaped imprisonment and told Lara to do the same to some of the wives of the others, and apparently, someone had done Narcissa's work for her and had informed the Dark Lord. _It spares me lying to his face about that part. I don't know if I could've kept from thinking about her long enough to tell him she hadn't survived. I wonder which one of them told the_ Prophet.

If she found out who was responsible for the fact that Lucius had been led to hear the false story before Narcissa had been given the chance to tell him the truth, she would personally ensure that person was made to pay.


	25. Cracks

Chapter Twenty-Five- Cracks

Narcissa made her way to the fireplace with quick, determined steps. She'd received a letter stating that Draco had been injured at school, though the document had been incredibly vague and unhelpful when it came to enlightening her at all on what series of events had led to his injury. She tossed in the Floo powder and ordered it to transport her to the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts, and she was swept up in plumes of green flame and emerged moments later at the school.

Her eyes landed immediately on her son, whose clothes were blood-soaked, his complexion paler than normal. She rushed over to his side and clutched his hand, using her other to brush his hair back from his forehead.

"I'm here, my love." She leaned close to kiss her son's forehead. "You're going to be all right."

"There was so much blood," Draco barely squeaked, his eyes wide and staring toward the ceiling. "Everywhere."

Narcissa ran her fingers through Draco's hair softly, her eyes stinging at his state.

"It's over, sweetheart," she said. "You're safe." She kissed his cheek and laid her hand on his arm as she sat down at the edge of his bed. "I'll make sure you get clean robes." She couldn't help staring at the blood covering him—the sight turned her stomach. "Do you remember what happened?" she asked quietly.

Draco nodded. He was silent for several moments before he managed to speak again.

"It was Potter."

Narcissa's eyes narrowed, and her grip on her son tightened, though hopefully not enough to hurt him. "Of course it was," she muttered. That boy was the source of all her family's ills. _Either him or the Dark Lord,_ she thought with more bitterness than she'd known herself capable.

Draco closed his eyes and let out a sigh, and after a few moments of stillness, Narcissa realized he was asleep. She watched his face, which so strongly resembled his father's, and tears stung her eyes. _I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you,_ she thought. _My poor boy._

"Narcissa."

At the sound of the voice of Severus Snape from behind her, she turned where she sat to face him. She knew he wasn't responsible for Draco's condition, but she was so angry at Potter that she couldn't contain her rage entirely, though she tried hard not to snap at him.

"How did this happen, Severus? Why did Potter do this to him, and how?"

He watched her with a scowl. "How does this sort of thing always happen, Narcissa?" he asked in an annoyed drawl. "The boys are constantly at one another's throats. Thankfully, I found Draco just in time, and he's going to be fine."

Narcissa's eyes narrowed at Severus's clear irritation. _I have every right to be upset that my son has been harmed,_ she thought.

"Good. Thank you," she said shortly. She glanced back at Draco before returning her focus to Severus. "What in the world did Potter use to do this? I've never seen anything like it."

"The boy has been getting himself in an inordinate amount of trouble lately—he's been experimenting with spells that are clearly beyond his level of comprehension and skill," said Severus, moving closer to where she sat.

Narcissa watched him closely, noticing when he dodged her question but not wanting to press—she knew something had to be wrong, if he was trying so hard not to answer her. "He needs to be stopped," she snapped. "He's a danger to everyone. And I have a few strong words prepared for him." She shook her head and squeezed her son's hand.

"I'm very aware of what needs to be done, Narcissa. Unfortunately, due to the boy's 'popularity,' there isn't much that can be done. Having a Gryffindor Headmaster doesn't help matters, either. You know from experience that we Professors all favor our own pupils."

Narcissa let out a sigh. "I know." She closed her eyes and forced in several breaths. "It's absurd that Dumbledore's favoritism has led to this." She leaned close to Draco and rested her head on his chest. "I'm glad you found him."

"Of course. Now, if that'll be all, I've got work to attend to. Good day, Narcissa." Severus turned on his heels, his long black robes twirling with his motion, and started for the door.

Narcissa nodded and closed her eyes. "Good day, Severus." When he'd gone, she squeezed Draco's hand tightly. "It's going to be okay, my love. Mummy's here. You're going to be okay." She held still and eventually managed to fall into a light sleep.

She blinked awake again at the feeling of Draco shifting.

"Mum?" he croaked.

Narcissa lifted her head so quickly the room spun. "I'm here, my dragon. Right here." She shifted position to kiss his forehead, and his skin was cold against her lips. "How are you feeling? Can I get you anything?"

Draco let out a quiet sigh. "Water."

Narcissa nodded quickly. "One moment, love." She stood and retrieved a pitcher of water from a table nearby and poured it into the accompanying glass before returning to his side and holding it up to his mouth carefully. "Here you are."

Draco groaned as he sat up. He took the glass of water from his mother and downed it. "Thank you," he whispered.

Narcissa nodded and sat the glass on the table before sitting down beside her son and clasping his hand between both of hers. "Are you starting to feel any better?"

Draco sighed and lowered his head. "Physically—I'm starting to..."

Narcissa watched her son, and her heart cracked at the sight of him. It was obvious that there was more going on in Draco's mind than just his injuries and Potter inflicting them. She reached out to lay her hand on his cheek and stroke it with her thumb.

"But what about everything else? Draco, sweetheart, you can tell me absolutely anything. Please tell me what's bothering you. Perhaps I can help you." Her hands were tied when it came to helping her husband, and her daughter was out of her reach except on the rare occasions when she could sneak away from home unnoticed, but now that she was here, she wanted more than anything to find a way to help her son.

Draco looked around the infirmary, and his lower lip began to tremble. He shook his head, cleared his throat, and sighed. He drew his shoulders back as he spoke. "It's fine, Mother. Nothing you need to worry yourself about. The important thing is that you take care of yourself and the baby."

Narcissa frowned as she watched him. She knew both Draco and Lucius well enough to know that expression—the stiff upper lip, the strong front, the ' _I'm fine_ ' she'd heard too many times—and she wished her son wouldn't shut her out. She brought his hand to her lips and kissed it.

"I'm fine," she said, "and so is your sister." She lowered her voice to keep anyone who might be nearby from hearing. "She's safe and staying with Andromeda. And I'm always going to worry about you, my love. You're my son."

Draco nodded. "I love you, Mother. Though I don't know how I feel about my baby sister living with a blood traitor."

Narcissa squeezed his hand. "I love you so much. And... I'm not sure how I feel about it, either, but at least she's safe away from... everyone who's been in our home."

Draco leaned back against the pillow behind him and watched her, the innocence in his eyes returning along with the fear and the pain. He glanced to the curtain that would separate his area of the infirmary with the rest, if it were closed. "Mother, do you reckon you could close us off and silence the area?"

Her heart ached at the pain and fear in his eyes. "Of course, my love. One moment." She grudgingly released his hand and stood, closing the curtain before flicking her wand while muttering the Silencing Charm. She returned to Draco's side. "What's on your mind?"

Draco squeezed his mother's hand and let out a long sigh. His exasperation was apparent in his tone when he spoke.

"I'm feeling overwhelmed, and—" He closed his eyes, let out another deep sigh, and tried again. "I miss Father, and I feel that if I'm unable to fulfill my duty, the Dark Lord will punish him, and isn't he already being tortured enough in Azkaban? Besides, I'm not like Father—I don't know if I have what it takes to kill, let alone Dumbledore. The Dark Lord told me he'd kill you, Father, and me if I failed. What if I fail, Mother?"

Narcissa listened to every word, her heart aching terribly at her son's confession. She held tightly to his hand. "You will not fail. You have every bit of strength in you that you will ever need—you are your father's son, Draco, and you're more like him than you know. You can do this, if it's what you truly want. And don't worry about us. You shouldn't have to protect your parents, my love. We will be fine. The Dark Lord needs your father—it's an empty threat." She prayed this was true. But now that she knew her son's fears, she couldn't help but worry. She sighed. "Everything is going to be fine. I know it will. I have faith in you, Draco."

Draco's lower lip trembled. He shook his head. "No! I know you're worried, Mother! I know you well enough to know. He will kill us. He told me he has no use for us, after Father betrayed him. This is our only redemption—if I fail, we all die." Draco practically fell into Narcissa's arms and began to weep.

Narcissa sighed heavily and pulled her son close, clinging to him as tightly as possible without hurting him. "I'm sorry, Draco. Yes, I'm worried. I don't know how to stop being afraid of him. I don't think it's possible." She paused and began to rub his back. "But I do have faith in you. You can do this. You've always succeeded at whatever you set your mind to, and I don't think you'll stop now."

Draco continued to sob in his mother's arms as his grip on her tightened. "I don't want to murder anyone, but I don't want you and Father to die."

Narcissa kissed Draco's cheek and pulled him as close as she could. "I know, my love. I know. Just please have faith—believe that even if you decide you don't want to do this, we will be okay. We will find a way—all of us—to be safe." She couldn't tell him about Severus and put the two of them at risk—she was terrified that Dumbledore would catch them, if they discussed the matter elsewhere in the school. Severus wasn't the type to silence the area; he seemed too stubborn for that. Besides, Narcissa didn't want Draco to think she didn't trust him enough to succeed at his task. It wasn't that at all—she didn't trust Dumbledore not to harm him if he found out before Draco got the chance to try.

Narcissa held her son close as he trembled, refusing to leave his side. When he eventually returned to sleep, she shifted him carefully to lie back on the pillows and climbed up to lie beside him. She knew she couldn't stay forever, but she didn't want to leave while he slept and worsen his fears. She needed him to know she supported him completely and was determined to help him in any way possible. "I love you," she said quietly, placing a kiss on his forehead.

* * *

Narcissa sat in the armchair in her sister's drawing room, her daughter in the process of falling asleep in her arms. She leaned down to kiss Lena's forehead, and the girl wrinkled her nose and smiled slightly. A wave of warmth passed through Narcissa at the sight, and she held her daughter closer, humming quietly.

"…Don't tell me not to share my concerns in my own household, Andromeda."

Narcissa looked up at the sound of her brother-in-law's low and angry voice and watched as he entered the drawing room. He made his way over to the armchair and sighed as his narrowed brown eyes landed on Narcissa.

"How much longer will my family and I be subjected to... this?" he hissed as he gestured down to the sleeping child in Narcissa's arms.

Narcissa looked up at Ted, frowning. "This?" She glanced down at Lena and then back at Ted. "Until it's safe for her to return home. Until _he_ 's gone."

He glared at her. "Over my dead body."

Andromeda strode into the drawing room, her arms folded and her focus on her husband. "I expect you of all people to understand how unreasonable He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his supporters can be and that innocents need to be protected."

Ted looked to Andromeda. "Innocent?" he asked in a mocking tone with a dark and clearly irritated chuckle. "She is _anything_ but innocent. She supported your family when they cast you out, and she married complete scum—a fugitive; a criminal—and produced multiple children with him. Children that they plan on corrupting. She and her kind claim we're the ones with 'bad' blood, but it's them who are absolute scum!"

Andromeda stared at her husband. "I was talking about the child, Ted. It's not right to cast her out because of who her parents are."

Narcissa's eyes narrowed as she returned her focus to Ted. "Not a word against my husband. My 'producing' of children is none of your concern. And my desire to keep my daughter from being 'corrupted,' as you so eloquently put it, is why she's here." She stood from the chair to get closer to his height, though it still wasn't enough to make them level. Ted stood several inches over her, and his shoulders were drawn back as he stretched to his fullest height.

He glared daggers at her. "It is my concern if you plan on having her stay here. And if I had been here that day instead of my wife, I guarantee you wouldn't be here right now. The kind of danger you put me and my family in— _just by coming here_ —is exponential, and I have to make sure my family is protected before I allow anyone else in."

Narcissa held her daughter close and tried hard not to look to her sister. She knew Andromeda didn't owe her anything, and she didn't plan on begging for help. "Other than those in this room, only five people know she's still alive. One is at Hogwarts, one is in Azkaban, one delivered her, and the others are family members who wouldn't dare tell anyone. Not one of them is a threat to you or your family."

Ted kept his stony gaze locked on Narcissa for what felt like hours, his anger evident in every line of his face. She tried to keep her posture firm, but she found it harder to do the longer he glared.

"Fine," he finally ground out. "She can stay, but you will leave enough milk for her so that she doesn't run out of food, because you will only be visiting once every three weeks. Understood? We'll make sure to preserve the milk with a spell. You won't have to worry about her being fed rotten food."

Narcissa felt Lena starting to stir, and she regretted that her daughter had heard all of this, whether she understood it or not. She nodded stiffly. "Fine. Thank you." She sighed and glanced down at Lena before returning her focus to Ted. "I just don't want her to forget me. But I can live with three weeks at a time."

Ted departed without a word. Andromeda stepped forward hesitantly, placing a hand on her sister's arm.

"He's—he's just under a lot of stress," she said.

"I understand. I didn't mean to put any of you in danger." Narcissa let out a sigh. "I just don't know what to do to keep her out of it, if she's not away from our home. I didn't want to cause trouble between you and Ted. I'm sorry."

Lena snuggled close to her mother, gripping onto her dress and letting out a very soft yawn—it was clear that she was enjoying her mother's company. Narcissa's heart squeezed at the sight of her daughter's movements. She couldn't stand to leave her little girl for such long periods of time, and if it hadn't been the only way to keep her safe... Narcissa leaned down to kiss her daughter's forehead. Lena squirmed happily, letting out a very tiny squeak through her yawn at her mother's kiss. After a few moments, she began to settle down, again. Narcissa smiled down at Lena, enjoying every moment of watching her and seeing her happiness, and then she looked back to her sister.

Andromeda sighed. "I know," she said, "and you didn't. This war is tough on all of us. I'm just ready for it to be over."

"As am I. I want my family back together." Narcissa paused and reached out to rest her hand on her sister's shoulder. "I hope you know I want you to be part of that, too."

Andromeda nodded. "I'd like that. I've missed you, Cissy. If this war has taught me anything, it's that, even when they're stubborn..." She looked toward the door through which Ted had exited and then back to Narcissa. "...family is most important."

"I've missed you, too. And it is, absolutely." Narcissa considered for a moment. "Do you think... well, would it upset him if I brought anyone else with me? Draco's going to be out of school, before much longer, and gods willing, Lucius will be home soon." She didn't know how, but she had to hope it was possible. She couldn't bear to think otherwise.

Andromeda glanced to the door once again and then returned her focus to Narcissa and shook her head. "You let me worry about Ted."

Narcissa nodded and stepped forward to embrace her sister as well as she could with Lena in her arms. "Thank you. I wish I knew how to tell you how much this means to me. If there's ever anything I can do for you, please tell me. Anything you need."

Andromeda squeezed Narcissa's forearm and nodded. "You returning and forgiving me for leaving you when you needed me is all I ever need." She leaned in and kissed her sister's forehead.

Narcissa smiled at the kiss and pressed one to Andromeda's cheek, a pang of pain and gratitude shooting through her. "I'm sorry I didn't find you sooner."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I want Lucius to be freed—I don't want you to be in pain."

Narcissa nodded slowly. "Thank you. He's... he's really not what you think. He's a good man, Andi. The best I've ever known. I hope the two of you can get to know one another."

Andromeda nodded. "Well, I'm really not one to talk. I grew up in the Pureblood society and married a Muggleborn. I've learned that everything our parents said was based on a belief that was mutated into a form of control... And I'm not saying the Order supporters are any better—their beliefs are just as extreme, the only difference being that they support the liberation of all of our kind, rather than conserving just our portion of it."

 _At least she understands that_ , Narcissa thought. She'd been afraid so many years around Order members would influence Andromeda's views and was immensely relieved to hear that she knew things weren't black and white.

"It has to be difficult to be stuck in the middle of all that," said Narcissa. "I thought I knew what I believed. But none of it is worth what we've all been through." She thought of Draco, who was still recovering in his school's infirmary. She thought of Lucius, who'd been so ill she'd been frightened for his life, and of Lena, who the majority of the world counted as dead. Narcissa thought of the times she herself had managed to displease the Dark Lord and had acquired deep cuts and bruises and burns so severe they'd scarred when she hadn't been able to heal them completely, and she shook her head. "Do you think this war can end?"

Andromeda sighed, made her way over to her the chaise, and sat. "Would you care for some tea before we get more into what I think about this war?"

Narcissa watched her sister with a slight frown, wondering whether bringing up the war had been a bad idea. She had no desire to ruin what had begun to feel like bonding between the two of them. She moved over to the chaise and sat beside Andromeda, careful not to jostle Lena. "I would love some, thank you. Do you... do you need any help?" She felt she was asking too much already, and she didn't want to inconvenience her sister further.

Andromeda shook her head, grabbed the kettle on the coffee table before them, and poured tea in each of the cups beside it. She reached for the first cup and handed it to Narcissa. "Here," she said. "Let me take Lena and put her in her cot."

Narcissa leaned down to kiss her daughter's forehead before passing her gently to Andromeda and taking a sip from her cup. "Thank you. I'm very glad she has the chance to know you."

Andromeda stood and made her way over to the cot. She kissed her niece's forehead, laid her down gently, and made her way back to the chaise, reaching for the other cup and sipping from it when she'd taken her seat. "Of course. Now, do I believe this war will end? Yes. The outcome? I'm unsure."

Narcissa angled her body toward Andromeda, clasping her teacup between both of her hands. "I agree. I don't even know what I'm hoping for, anymore." She sighed. "What are we supposed to do?"

"I'm not really sure, Cissy. We just wait and see what happens and pray it works out for all of us."

"I truly hope it does." Narcissa had no idea how to make that happen, but she was beginning to realize more and more that her loyalties lay far away from the man who'd been responsible for separating and endangering her family—all of it.


	26. Lucius

**A/N: I got overzealous and decided to post this one, too. Thank you to my friend** _ **justforpractice**_ **for writing with me on chapters 24-26. x  
**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Six- Lucius

Narcissa had been anxiously awaiting the outcome of the evening's events—she'd known Bellatrix had gone from the house and that whatever was happening was likely very dangerous and very unpleasant. The only information she'd been able to gather was that it involved Draco's task. _Please let him be safe_ , she prayed over and over as she paced through Malfoy Manor's halls, unable to rest or turn her thoughts to anything else. Her pacing brought her to the drawing room, and she froze at the sight of her son standing perfectly still at the center of the floor.

"Draco?" she breathed. Narcissa hurtled toward him and wrapped her arms around him tightly, breathing "Thank you, gods," over and over until the utterances ceased to sound like words.

He stood still for several moments apart from the trembling she could feel as she held him. Eventually, he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face against her neck, his body shaking as he wept. At the sound, Narcissa could no longer hold back her tears. She held on to her son, hoping to ensure he knew she wasn't going anywhere. She rubbed his back softly and pressed kisses to his hair, beyond grateful that he'd returned home safely. The Dark Lord had been wrong. Certainly Draco had succeeded, if he was here.

"It's all right, my love. It's all right. You're safe." Narcissa recalled all the times she'd embraced Lucius for dear life after he'd returned from his missions, and she cursed the Dark Lord for subjecting Draco to the same fate, the same dangers. "I'm right here, and you're safe, and you're home."

Draco shook his head against his mother's neck as he wept. "No it's not, Mother. I failed… I failed… and now he—" His weeping grew to sobbing, and his grip on her tightened.

Narcissa frowned deeply. "What do you mean, love? What happened? Talk to me, please," she said softly. "Here—come and sit down." Not releasing her grip on Draco, Narcissa guided him to the nearest chaise as she continued to rub his back and kiss his hair now and then. "You must've done well if you're here, sweetheart. You held your own." _Unless_... Her eyes widened as she recalled the Unbreakable Vow, but she refrained from mentioning it. She would give Draco the chance to explain before she jumped to conclusions.

"Mother…" Draco shook his head and then met her gaze. "I—I didn't kill Dumbledore. It was… Snape who struck him down. I started to, Mother, but—" Draco stopped abruptly, gulping and staring off into the distance with wide eyes. After a moment, he shook his head and returned his focus to Narcissa. "I failed my task, Mother. The Dark Lord will know, and we—you, Father, and I—will all be killed. He told me so." Draco leaned against his mother's shoulder as his weeping resumed. "I'm sorry, Mother. I'm so, so sorry." His voice was barely a whisper.

 _This can't be happening_ , thought Narcissa. The Dark Lord couldn't possibly hold the fact that Draco hadn't cast the curse against him if Dumbledore was still dead, could he? But… _Draco didn't cast the curse_.

Narcissa held him close and shook her head as the tears started to slip down her cheeks. "First of all, don't apologize for not killing someone. Draco, whatever else happens, I'm so, so proud of you. No matter how he's tried, the Dark Lord has not broken you. You're so good, my love—so pure. I don't blame you for not being able to do it, because it never should've been asked of you in the first place." She drew in a long breath and let it out again. "It's going to be all right, Draco. Perhaps he will simply be happy that Dumbledore is dead, regardless of how that came to pass." She prayed this was true—she couldn't begin to imagine what horrors could lie in store if that wasn't sufficient.

Draco tensed in her arms and looked up to her face, his brows furrowed. "But... Mum... You've always told Father that you're so proud of him... Was that a lie? Do you lie to Father to spare his feelings? When you and Father sat me down and informed me that he was a Death Eater, you said that he was someone to still be proud of... I've tried to be like him, but I wasn't able to. He's going to be so disappointed in me."

Narcissa sighed heavily. "No, I don't lie to your father or to you. The truth is, you're different people placed in different situations. I'm very proud of your father for handling the life he was forced into so well—he's killed, yes, but that was because he didn't have a choice. He's endured so many things he didn't want to do in order to survive and to keep us alive, and I don't blame him for any of it because I know this was not the life he wanted. You... The Dark Lord wanted to force you into that same life, and today, you had the one thing your father wasn't given: a choice. I'm proud of you for that choice, and it's the one I know he would've made, if he'd been given the option to. When your father was first placed in your position, the Dark Lord was at the height of his power and killed indiscriminately—even his own followers, when they dissatisfied him. Your father handled the strain and the trials with grace, and despite what he's had to do, I will always be proud of the man that he is. And I feel the same about you. He will not be disappointed in you. He will be glad that you're okay." _No matter what happens next_ , she added mentally.

Draco nodded and wrapped his arms around her once again. "Thank you, Mother. I love you."

Narcissa turned her head to kiss his cheek. "I love you so much, Draco. Please never forget that." She wanted to be able to shield him from everything—from his obligations, from the Dark Lord and whatever awaited, from the entire war—but she knew she couldn't. She could, though, be here to help him through it as much as he would allow.

Draco remained quiet for several moments, and then he pulled back and glanced down at his mother's stomach.

"How's my little sister?" he asked.

As no one else appeared to have returned yet, Narcissa supposed it was safe to answer. She smiled. "She's perfectly healthy, and she's safe. He still doesn't know about her, thankfully." _That I know of,_ she thought, but she pushed the notion away as quickly as it had come. She had to believe her Occlumency was sufficient to keep the Dark Lord out of her thoughts, or sleep would begin to elude her more than it already did.

Draco smiled. "I'm glad she's safe, and that she's a girl. Can I be honest with you Mother? I was afraid that you and Father were going to have another boy and... forget about me. We're apart so often when I'm at school, and… I can't tell you how thrilled I am that she's a girl."

Narcissa's heart ached, and when Draco leaned closer again, she held to him tightly, turning her head to kiss his hair. "I'm thrilled, too, because I've always wanted to have both a son and a daughter. But even if she'd been a boy, Draco, no one will ever make us forget about you. That's not possible, love. Even now that you're nearly of age and for the rest of forever, you will always be our son, and we will always love you."

Draco sighed, and for the first time since she'd found him, Narcissa felt him begin to relax.

"Thank you, Mother," he said. "I love you and Father very much."

* * *

A few weeks had passed since Draco's return, and Narcissa had endured a particularly difficult day at home. She'd managed to anger the Dark Lord and bring his wrath down upon herself, resulting in her sustaining several fresh scars in the form of burns along her pale skin, the most severe lining her abdomen. The Dark Lord had yet to make a strike against her family at large for what she knew he considered an inexcusable failure—her son's task. The Dark Lord had made it clear on many occasions that Draco's inability to kill Dumbledore would earn some form of drastic punishment for all of them, but thus far, Draco had only sustained a few minor injuries when the Dark Lord had lost his temper. Draco kept primarily to his chambers, and as long as he was safe, Narcissa did her best to focus on that and told herself she didn't mind bearing their master's wrath.

She'd retired early and had dissolved into the empty shell she so often found herself becoming lately. She lay in bed, her fingers tracing the spot where Lucius should've been—where he would've been, if it weren't for the Dark Lord. Narcissa had never hated anyone as much as she hated the man responsible for ruining her life and her husband's.

Narcissa was lost too deeply in her thoughts to realize someone had entered the room until she felt shifting behind her and the warmth of a body against her own. An arm slid around her waist, and she caught her breath and reached on reflex beneath her pillow to where she'd taken to storing her wand. With it in hand, she turned over, and at the sight before her, she froze.

 _Lucius._

He held his hands up in what looked like surrender, his grey eyes widening. "It's just me," he said very quietly.

She had to be dreaming. Life was not that kind. She couldn't be seeing his face, worn and pained and tired but still his; still the same eyes she'd looked to for strength, even if some of their light had dimmed; still the same man she'd loved since she'd been little more than a child. Without a word, she dropped her wand to the mattress and began to weep as she reached out tentatively to touch his face, half-convinced he would disappear.

Lucius closed his eyes, placing his hand gently—carefully, lovingly—on top of hers. Narcissa watched as tears began to creep down his cheeks, and he slid his arms around her and pulled her body to his.

"I'm here, my rose," he barely breathed. "I'm home."

She clung to him tightly, and she couldn't stop herself from sobbing. The idea that she'd almost reacted on impulse and attacked him made her ill, and the relief crashing over her was crippling in its scale and force. He was here. He was home, safe, and beside her. Narcissa buried her face in Lucius's chest and ignored the scratchy prison clothing because she couldn't care less about everything other than the fact that he was here. He was home, in their bed, his arms around her.

"I missed you so much," she sobbed. "I love you. Oh, I love you."

"I love you so much." He trailed his lips along her face, and she felt him shaking.

Narcissa kept her eyes closed and her face buried in his chest until he pulled back slightly, and then she watched as he removed his clothing. Her heart splintered at the sight of his body—she'd missed seeing him so much, though she detested how clear it was that he'd been mistreated. He looked so fatigued, malnourished, and pained. He tossed his clothing aside and closed the distance between himself and his wife once more.

"I'll be burning those later," Lucius mumbled. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close to his bare body. "I'm dirty and I smell awful, I know. I'm sorry, my rose." Lucius sniffed, and Narcissa snuggled against him gladly, resting her hands against his chest.

"Darling, I'm not letting go of you no matter how dirty you are. I just can't believe you're here. Please, please don't let this be a dream."

Lucius lifted her chin up with his fingers, leaning forward and kissing her softly. Narcissa's heart soared at the feeling of his lips against hers. She'd waited so very long to experience his kiss once again, and her tears flowed freely in pure, overwhelming relief. She couldn't be imagining his touch so perfectly.

"It's real," he breathed as he pulled back slightly. He kissed her nose and repeated the words and uttered them again when his lips moved to her forehead.

She sighed softly as his lips moved down her neck and touched the tops of her breasts along the edge of her nightgown. Narcissa sighed softly. She realized she was trembling slightly beneath her husband's lips, and she couldn't get over how perfect they felt against her skin after so long.

"I'm here, my rose. I'm really here. I'm home, now. I'm so, so sorry it took me forever to return to you."

"It's not your fault, my love," she whispered. "Just... thank you for coming home to me. You kept your promise. I'm so sorry I couldn't be there more often to help you."

Lucius shook his head. "Nonsense," he said. "You know I'm more than grateful that you chose to stay away—as much as you could. Azkaban is no place for a pure, wonderful, and magnificent rose like you. I don't ever want you to have to experience the darkness…" He trailed off, and she tightened her grip on him, knowing he had to be remembering what he'd suffered.

"It's all right," she said quietly. "It's over, now. You're safe."

She kissed along his neck, hoping to soothe him. His grip on her tightened, and after a few moments, Lucius pulled back and sat up slightly. He pulled back the sheets and grabbed the hem of her gown, pulling it up and over her and tossing it to the floor. She watched him, her pulse racing. Her heart sank as she watched the small smile he'd managed fall away as his eyes swept over her body. She frowned and watched his fingers trace her skin and the bruises, cuts, and burns covering her. His touch was unbelievably gentle.

"Gods, Narcissa… What the hell?" Lucius stood and climbed out of bed, making his way over to the spot on the floor where his clothes had landed. He returned moments later with his wand and began muttering healing charms as he held it over every injured inch of her skin. "Who did this?" His anger was unhidden in the sharpness of his tone. "I'm going to kill them."

Tears stung her eyes—she could see how pained he was by what he saw, and she hated adding to what he'd already endured. "Please don't. I don't want to be the reason you're put in danger again." She drew in a long, shaky breath and let it out again. "The Dark Lord hasn't been happy with me."

Lucius's expression darkened. Narcissa could see how unhappy he was with the idea of not avenging the wrongs that had been done to her, and this was one of countless reasons she loved him so very much. He sat still and silent for several moments, and then he resumed healing her injuries. Eventually, he reached down to remove her undergarments, and when they were gone, he kissed along her skin and the places the marks had been, letting his lips linger at each one for several moments. Narcissa found her tears streaming down her cheeks once again. How could he be so good to her?

Lucius brought his lips to hers, scooping her up in his arms and standing. He carried her to the bathroom, and she held on tightly, meeting his lips at each opportunity as she worked to persuade herself that they were real along with the rest of him. He turned on the water, and when the tub filled, he climbed in, still holding her close. She let out a contented sigh at the warmth of the water and the feeling of him beside her.

"You're safe, now, my rose," he said. "I will do everything in my power to keep you from harm."

"Thank you, darling. And I will do everything I can to make you feel at home again." She laid her hands on his shoulders and traced along them slowly before guiding her hands along his chest, taking in the sight of his skin. She planned to wash him momentarily, but she took a moment to just feel him, to feel that he was real, and to hopefully convey that she was as well and that she wasn't going anywhere. "I love you so much." She returned her hands to his shoulders and gave them a squeeze.

Lucius winced and closed his eyes, lowering his head slightly.

Narcissa's eyes widened, and she tensed at the sight of his obvious discomfort. "I'm sorry, my love." She knew he had to be sore, and she intended to ease his pain as much as she could. She returned her hands to his chest.

He let out a sigh and leaned forward to rest his head on her shoulder and bury his face against her neck. "It's okay," he whispered against her skin. "I love you."

Narcissa turned her head to kiss his hair. She reached for the soap and began running it carefully along his body starting with his back, her other hand attempting to massage away some of his tension at the same time.

"Thank you, my rose," said Lucius. "This means so much to me."

Narcissa kissed his hair once more. "You're more than welcome, darling. I'm very glad to do it. I hope you know I mean it when I say I want to do anything in my power to make you comfortable. You deserve so much better than this," she said, her fingers tracing over the grime he'd been subjected to for so long. She washed along his back and shoulders and arms and caressed his skin as she went. She took her time; she didn't want to draw back enough to make him lift his head yet. She was glad to be supporting him in any way he would let her.

"Thank you, Cissy." He let out several sighs and a few winces now and then as she worked, kissing her neck and running his hands up and down her back and through her hair. She smiled softly at the contact. He lifted himself up with a very quiet groan, kissing her lips and nose before leaning back against the edge of the tub, his eyes fixed on hers. "Gods, I love you. I'm so glad to be home."

Narcissa watched him, and her smile widened. She'd missed every little touch and moment of closeness while he'd been kept away, and she was indescribably relieved to have him in her arms once again. "I love you, and I can't tell you how glad I am that you're home, as well. Things already seem quite a bit brighter around here." She ran the soap along his arms and torso and then set it aside, using the bit left on her hands to wash his face carefully.

"Everything is much brighter, now that I'm home with you."

When she'd finished, he grabbed the soap and rested his head on her shoulder once more, kissing her neck while he ran the soap down her back. She wrapped her arms around him, trailing her fingers along his back and rinsing away the soap from his body as she caressed him and enjoyed the feeling of his kisses and his touch. She couldn't stop the tears of relief and overwhelming joy from sliding down her cheeks.

"I missed you so much," she said.

Lucius pulled back and leaned his face toward hers. He quickly kissed away each of her tears before placing his hands on her cheeks. "Shh, shh," he said lovingly. "I'm here, my rose. I'm here."

Lucius pecked her nose and lips and quickly washed her hair and his own. She tried to keep herself together as he carried her from the tub and set her on her feet, and she watched as he dried himself and then wrapped her in a towel. He grabbed a brush from the counter and ran it through her hair before beginning to braid it. She wept quietly as he worked, astounded by the sweetness of the gesture. When he was finished, he reached for her right wrist and removed from it the grey ribbon he'd given her after their first night together so many years earlier. Her heart warmed as she processed that he'd known exactly where to look for the ribbon. She'd almost forgotten exactly how perfectly he knew her, and she hated that the time apart had made her fear the loss of these little things. She reminded herself that they hadn't been lost at all, and when he'd pulled his own hair back into a bun, she held to him tightly as he carried her to their bed—finally, after all this time, it would hold them both again for the remainder of the night, and the thought made her melt.

Lucius sat and kept Narcissa close in his arms, and he pulled the blankets up over them as he slowly and lovingly rocked her. "I'm home, now," he said softly. "You can let it all out. You're safe to do so, now. Let it out. I'm here, my rose. And I'm not going anywhere."

Narcissa scooted nearer to her husband, her eyes closed. "I tried so hard to be strong. I tried every day, but I felt like no matter what I did, everyone could see through me. I felt hollow. Your letters were the only things keeping me sane. And I was so afraid I was going to lose Lena, and even though she's safe, I can barely see her. And Draco has been through too much—I can't imagine how he feels. I tried to protect him, and I wasn't strong enough. I couldn't stop the Dark Lord from using him just like he uses all of us. I'm sorry, Lucius—I tried so hard..."

Lucius removed the towel from Narcissa's body and dropped it over the edge of the bed, and he pulled her closer. "No, no, my sweet love," he said. "This is not something you apologize for. You did nothing wrong. Nothing. I'm so proud to be your husband. You remained so strong. I'm so sorry you had to wait and worry about me and Draco and little Lena. I'm sorry that because of my involvement, I put us all in danger. I'm so, so sorry you've been put through pain because of me." Lucius leaned in and kissed her nose.

Narcissa tried hard to believe his words—she knew he was sincere and truly thought all of those wonderful things, and she told herself she needed to believe that she hadn't failed. They were still alive, weren't they? Weren't the children? That had to count for something. She was preparing to tell him that even after all of this, she still didn't blame him for what had happened. Before she had the chance to speak, his lips were on hers, and she closed her eyes. She kissed him passionately, resting her hands on his cheeks and tracing his skin with her thumbs, and hoped to convey through the contact how completely she loved him and how glad she was that he was home.

Lucius moaned softly. Narcissa couldn't stop herself from shivering at the sound and the intoxicating feeling of his kisses and tugs on her lips. He wrapped his arm around her as he leaned forward to lie on top of her.

"I love you," he breathed in between kisses. "I never want to be away from you again. Thank you for loving me through all this."

"I love you more than life itself," she muttered against his lips. "Nothing will change that." She wrapped her leg around his to pull him closer, and her skin tingled at the contact with his—oh, how she'd missed him.

She spent the remainder of the night in his arms.


	27. Confessions

Chapter Twenty-Seven- Confessions

Narcissa groaned softly as her mind returned to wakefulness, and she let out a contented sigh at the gentle touch of fingers in her hair.

 _Wait, what?_

Her eyes snapped open, her mind struggling to understand what she was seeing. Her head rested on Lucius's chest, and he was watching her with a soft smile. There was a light in his grey eyes that sent a surge of warmth through Narcissa.

He was here. He was actually here, actually _home, safe._

 _Thank the gods,_ she thought over and over as she nuzzled her face against his chest, her arm sliding around his middle.

"It wasn't a dream," she breathed. Her voice cracked on the words, and she inwardly kicked herself for ruining the moment with her insecurities.

"Not at all."

She felt him lean up and savored the sensation of his lips against her hair. Missing the small gestures of affection in his absence had been absolute torment, and now that she had him back and could experience these little wonders with him again, she was certain her heart would burst with joy.

"It's all right," he said softly. "It's still early—you can go back to sleep, and I'll be here when you wake."

Narcissa knew they should likely make themselves presentable in the event that the Dark Lord decided to materialize and demand their time and attention, but she couldn't truly bring herself to care. Her husband was home after far too long, and that was all that mattered. All she wanted was to spend the day in his arms and bring him to see their children and forget about the rest of the world.

She blinked tiredly and tightened her grip on him. A small portion of her mind still feared that if she returned to sleep, this would all turn out to have been a dream. Still, she couldn't deny the warmth and solidity of his body against hers and how overwhelmingly comforting his touch was. She kissed his chest and closed her eyes.

"I love you," she breathed.

"I love you so much." He kissed her hair again, and then she felt him shift and settle back against the pillows, his hand gently tracing her side. She smiled, letting the softness of his touch carry her out of consciousness.

Narcissa woke periodically, finding herself in a state of panic that she was quick to exit when she realized that Lucius was beside her. She tried each time not to move enough to disturb him, though she knew she had each time his arms tightened around her and he mumbled reassurances until she slept once more. Apart from these moments of fear that he would turn out to be just a beautiful vision, she slept better than she had since he'd been taken from her.

At last, the sun was too bright through the crack in the curtains for her to ignore it any longer, and she knew she would be unable to continue to sleep. She held onto Lucius, her eyes still closed as she fought to make this perfect stillness last.

She felt his fingers skim through her hair as his other arm remained around her waist. Narcissa lifted her head and opened her eyes to smile at him brightly, beginning to accept that her dreams had not deceived her and trust that after so long, things were going to be fine.

Lucius grinned. "Good morning, my rose."

"Good morning, darling." Narcissa kissed his chest and up his neck slowly before bringing her lips to his. Lucius sighed into the kiss, his fingertips caressing her back.

Eventually, he pulled back just enough to speak. "I missed you."

Narcissa laughed softly, laying her hands on his cheeks. "I missed you so much." She rested her forehead against his.

"I can't believe I get to touch you again."

"As much as you like."

Lucius laughed warmly as his hands massaged her back. "Yes, we've time to make up for. I—I can't believe this. I hoped every single day I'd wake up to you beside me."

Narcissa shifted position slightly to rest her head against his shoulder as she slid her arms around him. "I can't describe how glad I am that you're home."

He slid his arm farther around her waist and traced his index finger down her back and along her thigh. "I can't describe how glad I am to be here. With you."

She paused for a moment to determine what he was drawing on her skin, and as she processed that it seemed to be an extremely detailed flower, warmth surged through her. She buried her face against his neck.

"Please don't go away again."

"Never," he said. "I promise."

"I can't live without you. Every day, every moment, all I wanted was you."

"Shh…" He held her tighter, resting his cheek against the top of her head. "I'll never let them take me from you again. Never. I swear to you, Narcissa. I nearly went mad each day I was without you. I didn't think I would survive it. It was so dark in there, so cold…" Lucius shivered, and Narcissa kissed his neck. She knew it would be an extremely long time before Azkaban ceased to haunt him, and she would do her best to ease his pain. She leaned up to kiss his cheek, and after a moment, he continued speaking. "I couldn't believe I was home again, holding you in my arms. I thought they'd finally driven me mad. This is too perfect." He pressed his lips to her forehead.

Narcissa knew she was trembling, and she tried to hold still and collect herself, but she accepted finally that there was no point. He certainly already felt her shaking, and besides, she had no reason to hold anything back from him.

"It was so cold sleeping here." Her voice left her lips as less than a whisper, and she felt she might be breaking as she spoke the words. "Our bed still smelled like you, for a while, but time took even that from me. I sprayed your cologne to bring it back, but it wasn't the same. It wasn't you."

He rested his hand beneath her chin and guided it upward to bring her lips to his. After several moments, he pulled back by a millimeter. "I'm so sorry. Every night from now onward, I will be beside you."

"That sounds perfect," she said.

He grinned and reached up to play with a lock of hair that hung beside her cheek. "I'm glad. Come here." He shifted their position carefully to roll on top of her, and she stared up into his eyes with a smile until he closed the distance between them and captured her lips.

* * *

For the first time in months, Narcissa hummed to herself as she arranged her hair at her vanity. The night she'd spent sitting here awaiting Lucius from the Ministry was distant in her memory, now, and her thoughts were filled with him. She glanced over at him now and then as he dressed—she'd done so already in one of her favorite grey, knee-length dresses—and when he finished, he made his way over to where she sat and lifted her gently from the stool. He sat and pulled her into his lap, sliding his arm around her and resting his hand against her ribs just beneath her breast as he kissed along her neck.

"You make it very difficult to focus," said Narcissa. She caught a glimpse of their reflection, and she knew the smile she wore was the brightest that had graced her lips in months. She was thrilled to be distracted, as long as he was the cause.

"Terribly sorry," Lucius teased. His breath tickled her neck, and she felt gooseflesh rising along her arms. "I could go sit somewhere else, if it would make things easier on you."

"Don't you dare." She turned her head to meet his lips softly. His kiss was tender and loving, and she planned to take every available chance to feel it. Eventually, she pulled back and leaned against his shoulder, and she smiled at the feeling of his fingers in her hair as he finished pinning her curls in place.

"How are our children?" he asked as he worked.

Narcissa's stomach turned. "Lena's safe with Andromeda. I don't give a damn what Ted says, I'm taking you to see her as soon as you feel up to leaving the house, I—"

"Cissy. Please breathe. What's going on?"

She sighed. "Andromeda's been wonderful, but Ted's… difficult. He has his opinions, and it was all I could do to persuade him to let Lena stay there."

"Let me guess: his opinions of me are less than complimentary?"

Narcissa frowned and lifted her face to kiss along her husband's cheek. She loathed the thought of admitting the dreadful things Ted had said about him. Lucius didn't need another problem to dwell on, especially considering they still had the matter of Draco's task to discuss.

"It doesn't matter," she said with a shake of her head. "We'll see our daughter. Together."

"Narcissa, look at me, please." Lucius grasped her chin gently and guided her face upward, and Narcissa met his eyes. "I know what you're trying to do, and I appreciate it more than I know how to tell you. I have not experienced kindness over the last year apart from those beautiful times you came to visit me. I know you're trying to shield me, and that, my rose, is one of the millions of reasons I love you. Even with everything you've been through because of me…" He closed his eyes and shook his head, and the set of his lips suggested disgust. "Even after all that, you're still trying, and I know I don't deserve you. But please know that you don't have to keep fighting these battles alone, now. I'm here to help you in any way I can, and even if that's just by listening to what your sister's Mudblood husband has to say about me, then fine—if I can share the burden, I will do it gladly."

Narcissa felt a few tears sliding down her cheeks, but she ignored them. She leaned close and kissed his lips softly, and then she nodded. "Thank you, my love. I'll remember that, and I'll do my best to let you fight with me. I just hate to cause you pain, and you've been through too much." She recalled how pale and sickly he'd seemed in Azkaban, and she realized how grateful she was that he seemed to be feeling more like himself.

"I understand." He kissed her forehead. "What have I missed? I must've read every letter you sent a hundred times, but I never quite understood what was happening with Draco."

Narcissa pulled in a long breath. "Lucius, I… I'm so sorry." Her shoulders fell, and the urge to find somewhere to hide from her shame overcame her. She forced herself to ignore it; no matter how she felt about everything that had happened, he deserved the truth.

"Whatever the Dark Lord asked of him, it was not your fault," said Lucius firmly.

"He was supposed to kill Dumbledore."

Lucius was silent.

Narcissa watched his face as the happiness that had returned to it since the previous night was replaced by a furrowed brow and an unmistakable blend of guilt and revulsion.

"That's absurd," Lucius muttered at last. "How could he do such a thing?"

"The Dark Lord tasked Bella with training him." Narcissa immediately regretted the words, as she felt his grip on her tense as quickly as though he'd been Stunned. "He… he seemed to be doing well learning spells and such, but since he went off to school, he was mostly on his own, and I know he was worrying himself ill. I wanted to tell you, I wanted to—I couldn't let you fear for our son while you were barely holding on. I couldn't do that to you. I thought I had it handled, and I—I persuaded Severus to make an Unbreakable Vow to protect him."

"You… what?" He blinked.

"I knew we could trust him, and it worked. Draco didn't kill Dumbledore, but Severus was with him at the time and finished the job, and… and the Dark Lord can't follow through with his threats, now, can he?" Narcissa vaguely registered how frantic her voice sounded, but she couldn't stop talking now that she'd started. She knew he had every right to be upset with her for not finding a way to tell him all of this sooner, and she knew it was selfish to hope for any other outcome, but she couldn't stand the thought of Lucius being upset with her, especially not now. "He can't hurt us. We've done everything he asked and more, but he told Draco that if he didn't kill Dumbledore, we'd all die instead, and—"

Lucius silenced her with the touch of his lips on hers, his hand sliding to the small of her back and holding her against him for several moments. Narcissa kept her eyes closed, feeling the flow of her tears down her cheeks and then the brush of his fingers against her skin removing them.

"It's all right," he said when he pulled back. "Cissy, if you'd put any of that in a letter, they would've hauled you to Azkaban, too. Our children would've had no one. I'm angry, but not with you. How could he put Draco in a position like that? And Draco… he has to be furious with me. If I hadn't been captured, this never would've—"

"He's not." Narcissa shook her head. "He was frightened he couldn't live up to your example, and he tried so hard to bear all of this on his own and not tell me any of it. He's so much like you. I remember when you joined, how you were ready to take on the entire world by yourself. You didn't want to tell me what you were facing because you didn't want to worry me, and… he tried so hard to do the same. Our boy has had to grow up far too quickly."

"I wish I'd never dragged either of you into this," said Lucius, frowning. "And now Lena…"

Narcissa laid her hands on his cheeks and looked him in the eyes. "Nonsense. I told you I'd follow you anywhere, and I meant it then just as I mean it now. I don't regret our life, my love. The only thing I regret is what he's done to us. But let's… let's not focus on that." The more they spoke of the Dark Lord, the stronger the feeling creeping up her spine became that he would somehow know and would appear just to spite them. "What do you say we go and find Draco? He'll be so glad to see you. And then we'll visit Lena."

Lucius nodded and pecked her lips before standing. He set her gently on her feet and took her hand in his own, intertwining their fingers. "Everything is going to be—"

His words were interrupted by a _meow_ from the other side of the door, and he froze, staring at the wood.

"What's…?"

Narcissa smiled and gave his hand a pull. She led him to the door and opened it, and she watched as Athena looked up at Lucius, her whiskers twitching questioningly. Narcissa reached down to scoop the cat from the floor and held her out to Lucius, who extended a careful hand. Athena sniffed his fingers and rubbed her cheek against his palm, and Narcissa couldn't hold back a laugh.

"You can thank your sister for her. Her name's Athena."

"I missed two additions to the family?" Lucius sighed and shook his head as he scratched the cat behind the ears. "Well, I'll have to make it up to all of you somehow." He slid his arm around Narcissa's waist and kissed her cheek, and she held Athena close to her shoulder as they started down the corridor toward Draco's room.


	28. Four

Chapter Twenty-Eight- Four

Lucius knocked on Draco's door, and Narcissa set their cat down to roam as she pleased, trying to ignore how loudly her pulse was pounding in her ears. Narcissa knew in theory that she had nothing to fear, but being out and about in the corridors had her on edge. The Dark Lord came and went as he pleased, and he'd taken to inviting other Death Eaters to Malfoy Manor on a whim. Narcissa could only hope her husband and son would be allowed to speak without disturbance. She couldn't bear the thought of anything ruining what had been a perfect night and morning, at least thus far.

The doorknob turned, and she held her breath, glancing at Lucius, who looked the slightest bit frightened. Narcissa knew he was still blaming himself for what their son had endured, and she couldn't imagine how difficult that must be. She'd had a trying enough time with the guilt of being unable to prevent Draco from being forced into the Dark Lord's service, and what Lucius was facing had to be so much worse.

The door opened, and Draco stood on the threshold, frozen.

His mouth worked as though he planned to speak, but not a wisp of sound left his lips. After a moment that felt suspended in time, he launched himself forward and threw his arms around Lucius, who let out an _oof_ and embraced his son.

 _Don't break him, Draco, please… We just got him back._

Relief crashed over Narcissa as she watched the two of them, and she saw tears forming in her husband's eyes, though she knew he was trying hard to keep them at bay.

"You're here," muttered Draco, his voice choked. Narcissa couldn't see his face, as it was buried in his father's shoulder, but she could see his arms trembling. "Father, I'm so—I tried so hard, I wanted to keep our family together and keep them safe, and I've ruined everything. I couldn't do what he asked, I—"

"Draco," Lucius began, shaking his head, "please…"

"I couldn't do it. I—I've let you down, and Mother, and I—I'm sorry, Dad, I'm sorry."

Lucius turned his head to face Narcissa, and the pain in his grey eyes combined with that in their son's words turned her stomach. She'd hoped that she'd gotten through to Draco on the matter of his 'failure' and that he'd understood that none of this had been his fault. She wondered whether seeing his father had reopened those wounds or whether he'd still felt this way all along.

"You haven't let us down, Draco." Lucius closed his eyes and rubbed his son's back gently. "I'm… so sorry that you had to go through all this. I never wanted this for you. I never wanted you to be subjected to this life, to serving _him,_ and I'm sorry he took out his anger at me on you. You haven't failed, Draco. I have. I failed you and your mother. And your sister. I should've been here to protect all of you, and I'm sorry that I couldn't."

Narcissa wiped the tears sliding down her cheeks, and she stepped forward to slide an arm around each of them, resting her head on her husband's shoulder.

"Nonsense," she said softly. "This is all on him, not on either of you."

A _thump_ resounded through the corridor, and Narcissa flinched so severely that Lucius and Draco both looked at her, frowning. She opened her mouth to try to find an explanation and to pull forth something to say to the Dark Lord that would excuse her family's negative words.

She was spared the need by a brown and black blur hurtling out of the library and past their feet on the way down the hall.

 _Just Athena. Pull yourself together. They don't need to see you like this._

"Cissy, are you all right?" Lucius slid his arm around her waist, his eyes searching hers.

"Fine. We should… why don't we go and see Lena?"

Draco's face lit up immediately. He hadn't been home long enough to join Narcissa on one of the trips Ted had allotted her, and she knew how excited he'd been to meet his sister at last.

"That sound wonderful," said Lucius, leaning close to kiss his wife's forehead.

Narcissa knew he wasn't likely to let the subject of her skittishness slide for long, but if she could prolong his happiness for even a moment more, then she was determined to do so.

 _Besides, I need to see her,_ she thought. The longer she was obligated to follow her brother-in-law's arrangements, the more she resented the restrictions he'd put on her. Perhaps Lucius could talk sense into him.

* * *

Narcissa kept a firm grip on her husband's hand as her sister led them to the blue-striped sofa. Lucius was clearly far past hesitant; his movements were tense and sharp, and he didn't sit until Narcissa did so first and pulled him down beside her. Draco joined them a moment later after he'd finished taking in the portraits lining the walls.

Guilt twisted Narcissa's stomach. She hated that Draco had been given no opportunity to know his aunt, uncle, and cousin. She hated that she'd allowed her parents to control her life even after she had children of her own.

"How's Dora?" Narcissa asked.

Andromeda sat in the armchair across from the sofa and folded her hands in her lap. She looked from Narcissa to Lucius to Draco, and she appeared to be trying to suppress a smile.

"She's well. Ted's gone to see her, actually. She's gotten engaged."

Narcissa blinked. "That's wonderful. To whom?"

"To… well, Remus Lupin."

Lucius squeezed Narcissa's hand so hard it stung, and Draco scoffed.

"The werewolf?" Draco blurted.

"Your former professor, if I understand correctly," said Andromeda, the corner of her mouth twitching.

Slowly, Lucius's grip relaxed, and he muttered an apology in Narcissa's ear. She supposed her sister had been trying to hold back her excitement around the three of them for fear of how they would react, and Narcissa wasn't certain whether the wave of nausea that had begun to work its way through her had been initiated by the idea of her niece marrying the werewolf or by the hatred of her own negativity toward the thought.

 _If he loves her, if they're going to be happy together, then fine. She won't be in danger. Nymphadora is trained in combat, and besides, from everything Andromeda's said, she's smart enough not to marry someone who would harm her._

"That's wonderful."

Narcissa felt Lucius and Draco staring at her, and she traced the back of her husband's hand with her thumb, hoping to communicate that picking a fight over this was unwise. After a moment of silence, Lucius sighed.

"May we see Lena? Please?"

His words sounded strained. They'd discussed Andromeda enough for Narcissa to know that Lucius had never forgiven her for letting her feelings for Ted drive her away from her family and for leaving Narcissa to face their father's wrath alone. Narcissa understood that trying to be civil for the sake of their daughter was difficult for him, and she gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, hoping he knew how much she appreciated the effort.

Andromeda sighed lightly. "Of course. I'll be right back."

She stood and made her way from the room.

"Marrying the werewolf," Lucius muttered.

"Darling…" Narcissa leaned against his shoulder. "It's going to be all right."

"What if they let him be around Lena, Cissy?"

She tensed. She hadn't considered that Lupin could potentially be near enough to their daughter to pose a threat, but now, she couldn't stop wondering whether he already had. After a moment, Lucius wrapped his arm around her waist.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I don't think that Andromeda would intentionally put Lena at risk. I'm just worried for her."

"I know." Narcissa rested her hand on his knee.

"He was always so fond of Potter," Draco mumbled. "Should've known he was in with the Order."

Narcissa lifted her head and laid her free hand on Draco's arm. "Love, please try not to think about any of that, right now. No matter whom your cousin is marrying, we are here for your sister."

Draco nodded, lowering his gaze to the carpet.

 _How did we get here?_ Narcissa thought bitterly. _Why does everything go back to this war? Why can't we just have peace, even in the family?_

She looked up as Andromeda reentered the room with Lena in her arms. The tiny girl looked around curiously, and her eyes lit up when they fell on her mother.

"Ma!"

Narcissa's heart squeezed. She'd been so frightened that Lena wouldn't remember who she was, as sparingly as she was permitted to visit. She'd made an effort each time to repeat over and over that she was _Mama,_ and though she knew her six-month-old daughter didn't entirely grasp the importance of the word, she was beyond relieved that Lena was learning.

Lena looked up at Andromeda. "Di! Ma!"

Andromeda nodded with a smile. "I know, love." She passed Lena into her mother's arms, and Narcissa leaned down to kiss her daughter's nose, which led Lena to wrinkle it as she grinned.

Lucius caught his breath.

Narcissa turned her head to find him watching their daughter as though she were a vision that might fade at any moment. For the second time that day, his eyes swam with tears.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Narcissa brushed her lips over his cheek and shifted Lena carefully into his arms.

"Hello, there, little one," Lucius breathed, a smile breaking over his lips.

Lena blinked up at him and then looked to Narcissa.

"Ma?"

"Lena, this is Daddy. Just like in the picture." Narcissa's voice quivered, but she paid it no mind. "Andi, could you—?"

Andromeda moved for the mantel and a small framed photograph Narcissa had left for her daughter to be shown in order to help her remember her family even when they couldn't be here with her. When her sister handed her the frame, Narcissa held it out to Lena, pointing to the tallest of the three people standing in front of Malfoy Manor's steps in the image.

"Daddy," she repeated.

Lena looked from the photo to Narcissa to Lucius, and she let out a high-pitched laugh.

"Da!"

She buried her face in the front of her father's robes and then turned her head, keeping her cheek against his chest as she reached out to wrap her small fingers around a lock of his long, white-blond hair.

"Merlin," Lucius whispered. He held Lena tightly, closing his eyes, and at the sight of the tears slipping down his cheeks, Narcissa found her own resuming. She knew she wasn't likely to find a break from the overwhelming emotion anytime soon, but she didn't mind in the slightest.

Her family was whole, and that was all that mattered.

Narcissa felt Draco shifting beside her, and she turned her head to watch as he sat forward on the sofa, leaning around her as he watched his father and sister. Narcissa slid an arm around his shoulders and kissed his cheek.

Lena looked at Draco and then down at the photograph in her mother's hands.

"This is Draco, sweetheart," said Narcissa. "Your brother."

Though Lena didn't pull back from Lucius, she reached out a hand, and Draco took it in his own.

"Co," said Lena firmly. "Da. Ma."

"That's right," said Lucius, pressing his lips to Lena's short blond locks.

Narcissa leaned against his shoulder and pulled Draco closer, planning to remain here as long as they possibly could.


	29. Broken

_**A/N: MULTIPLE WARNINGS. References to sexual assault, miscarriage, and parental abuse. The events discussed in this chapter have been planned as part of this arc for a long time, and I've been dropping hints while trying to persuade myself to just get it out, so I hope to have done it as tastefully as possible, given the subject matter. I apologize for the level of angst and promise that the next chapter will be an improvement on that front. It's all out in the open, now. x**_

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Nine- Broken

Trembling from head to toe, Narcissa padded over the grass, the pre-dawn dew clinging to her calves and slicking her feet. She'd pulled on her nightgown and her white satin robe and had moved as carefully as possible to avoid disturbing her husband. She'd done enough of that during the night, after they'd returned from a surprisingly pleasant trip to her sister's home.

* * *

 _She woke with a scream, her hand sliding beneath her pillow. She had to fight back, this time. He would not win, this time._

 _"Cissy!"_

 _"No—no—"_

 _She was struggling blindly against the strong arms surrounding her—she couldn't see anything past the red blur of panic pounding through her head._

 _"Narcissa—"_

 _"No—get away—"_

 _"Rose—"_

 _Warm hands braced on either of her cheeks, forcing her to focus on the area directly in front of her. And the face._

 _The face._

 _That wasn't the Dark Lord._

 _That was Lucius._

I'm safe. I'm safe. It's Lucius. We're safe.

 _"Narcissa…" Lucius's voice was a broken whisper, his grey eyes pierced with pain. "Talk to me," he breathed. "Nightmare?"_

 _She nodded slowly, blinking through her tears. Without another word, she collapsed against him, praying he didn't ask her to elaborate._

* * *

She had no idea where else to go to mourn this loss of part of herself—this pain that she didn't know how to handle and couldn't inflict on Lucius to ask for his help. She couldn't imagine how deeply it would cut him to know what she'd endured in his absence.

The stone floor of the crypt was ice beneath Narcissa's bare feet. She felt it only for a moment, however, before the floor moved out from beneath her as she was swept from her feet and into the arms of her husband.

Narcissa gasped, the sound louder than she'd intended as she tried to use it to stifle the sob that sought to burst from her lungs. She wanted to suffer alone, to spare him, but here he was, literally carrying her from her seclusion.

"You don't need to be here," he muttered against her hair as he held her to his chest. She realized as she leaned against him that he'd worn only his trousers—he'd bothered even less with dressing than she had. With a sickening pang, she realized he must've hurtled after her the moment he'd woken to realize she was gone.

"I'm sorry," she breathed, hiding her face in his neck. "I'm sorry."

"Cissy, no. Stop apologizing."

She felt him shake his head.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. But I need you to talk to me."

Lucius carried her swiftly back into the house and up the stairs, and shortly, he'd pulled her into his lap on the chaise beside the roaring fire in their chambers. Narcissa leaned against him, working hard to still her trembling. Lucius kept his arms around her tightly, his fingers gently tracing her back.

"Please," he breathed. "Tell me what's hurting you. Tell me so that I can help you fight it. I'm here—you don't have to bear this alone, anymore."

With each second that passed, Narcissa became increasingly certain that her chest would crack open and allow her pounding heart to fall free of it. Her need to find solace through letting her emotions rise to the surface was at war with her need to protect Lucius from further harm.

"Please," he insisted once more. His fingers stilled on her back, and he sighed against her hair, his breath warming her scalp. "Narcissa… the first night I was home… you went for your wand the instant you realized someone was there. You kept it beneath your pillow." His voice hitched on the last word, and she knew he already understood.

"I'm s—"

Lucius cut her off with a finger to her lips.

"No," he said firmly. "Do _not_ apologize. Tell me who needs to, and I will—"

He didn't need to finish the thought for her to understand. He'd proven time and again that he would stop at nothing to avenge any wrong done to her, no matter how large or small. Lucius had once left Thorfinn Rowle bleeding in an alley after Rowle had gotten too close to Narcissa. She knew the scar on her thigh from years before that encounter had been the true catalyst. Rowle had been her mother's first attempt to arrange Narcissa's future into a neat little series of mild-mannered agreements and blind loyalties, and though Narcissa had escaped the situation and the ego-damaged Thorfinn before he could harm her too severely, she bore the scar even now from the curse he'd used in retaliation for refusing his advances.

Unfortunately, Thorfinn hadn't kept Narcissa's fears of unwanted attention and forced intimacy to himself.

* * *

" _There are a number of ways to cause pain," the snake-like man said quietly, "and not all of them involve magic. I doubt you'll be surprised that I know quite a bit about you, Narcissa. I know what you fear. My Death Eaters do talk. Mr. Rowle was particularly forthcoming."_

* * *

The words trickled through her mind, as sickening as the day she'd heard them along with the Dark Lord's intent to draft Lena into his service.

She hadn't believed him.

"The Dark Lord," she breathed. "I… I tried, Luc. I tried to fight him. That's—that's why I keep my wand ready. I won't f-fail again."

Tension shot through Lucius. He went so rigid Narcissa feared he might break. She gripped his arm, her fingernails pressing into his bicep as her heart raced so rapidly she thought she might vomit it from her throat.

"He—he—Cissy…"

She let out a shaky breath. "I'm sorry."

"It's not—it isn't your—he actually… He touched you?" The words were so strained it sounded as though it physically pained Lucius to speak them.

"Yes. I'm s—"

"Narcissa." Lucius laid both of his hands on her cheeks and kept her facing forward, refusing to allow a centimeter more to separate them than was necessary for their gazes to meet. " _No._ "

His hands trembled against her skin, and as he closed his eyes, she recognized the fury passing over his face. She recognized the blind rage and the need to avenge pain, but she'd never seen these as prevalent in the set of his mouth as she saw them now.

"I'm going to—"

"Lucius, please. Please don't."

He pulled back, then, his eyes still locked on hers, looking positively wounded.

"If you think for a _second_ that I am going to allow him to get away with this—"

"What do you think he _wants_?" Narcissa asked desperately. She could no longer restrain the tears flooding down her cheeks. She'd held them back for too long, determined to keep herself in one piece for the sake of her family, and now that she'd admitted what she'd endured, she couldn't close the floodgates again. "Why do you think he did it? He wants to hurt us, Luc. I'm sure he wanted me to break down and tell you so that you'd go after him and give him something he could pass off as justification to hurt you, too."

" _I don't give a damn what he wants!_ He doesn't get to do this to you! He doesn't get to go without punishment! He doesn't get to win!"

"He doesn't win," Narcissa insisted, gripping her husband's shoulders tightly as her expression implored him to stop in the motion he'd begun—she feared he was going to stand and charge off after the Dark Lord. "He's already lost. He's lost us. Let him think what he wishes, but he will never have our loyalty again."

"That's not good enough!"

Lucius shifted Narcissa carefully onto the chaise before pushing himself to his feet and striding away across the room. He drew back his arm and slid it across his bedside table, sending a lamp clattering to the floor. Narcissa didn't flinch at the sound of the glass cracking or the sight of the picture frames falling beside it. She drew her knees up onto the chaise in front of her and wrapped her arms around them as she watched Lucius unravel.

He let out a cry of frustration and doubled over, clutching the edge of the table as his shoulders quaked and his tears began.

 _Go to him. Go. Now._

Narcissa willed her body to move, but for a terrifying moment, it refused to obey. She was immobilized by the fears she didn't want to voice. She'd already done so once, years earlier and under vastly different circumstances.

* * *

" _How can you still look at me that way?"_

 _Her voice was soft, her eyes stinging with the tears she'd been shedding for so long she'd lost track of time completely. She'd detailed her every reason for leaving during what had unquestionably been the most dreadful period of both her life and his, and even though she'd known he had every right to walk away from her right then, he was still watching her with the same soul-deep love she'd feared she would never see again._

 _"Where should I start?" Lucius let out a sigh, trailing his fingers through Narcissa's hair and shaking his head. "Because I don't blame you for being seventeen and petrified to admit that our lack of forethought had resulted in a child? Because I know exactly what your father would've done if he'd known you were expecting and I understand why you were so frightened to admit it even to yourself?"_

 _Narcissa kept her expression as neutral as she could. Admitting that her father's curses might've been the reason for the loss of the child was not going to make this easier. She would return to that topic after she'd heard everything Lucius needed to say on this one._

 _"Cissy, I can't imagine. I can try, but I can never know what it was like to bear that knowledge alone, and I can only assure you that I don't fault you for being too scared to tell me until it was… until the time had passed."_

Until I'd lost our son, _she thought._ Until I'd run away in shame.

 _"And in regard to the matters with_ Rookwood _…"_

 _Narcissa had never heard a name spoken with as much venom as that of the man they'd both once considered a friend._

 _"He is entirely at fault, and you will not persuade me otherwise."_

 _She closed her eyes and sighed, processing his words. Though she knew in theory that Lucius was right—that she wasn't responsible for what had happened after her mind had given way to the alcohol and she'd no longer been able to voice her refusals aloud—she couldn't stop faulting herself for being foolish enough to be alone with someone who would take advantage of her intoxication and her lack of consciousness._

 _"But don't you think less of me?" she whispered, opening her eyes to meet Lucius's once again. She felt soiled—she felt broken and used. "How can you still want—?"_

 _He silenced her with a fierce kiss, his hands cupping her cheeks. Slowly, she relaxed against him, her lips pulling at his with less restraint with each passing second._

 _"I always will," he breathed between kisses, one hand sliding down her back and pulling her more fully against him. "Always."_

* * *

Narcissa stood from the chaise, mentally screaming at herself for her moment of hesitation. She ordered her doubts into silence and ran to her husband's side, sliding both arms around him and catching her breath when an instant later he'd turned and lifted her, pulling her with him onto the edge of the bed.

"I'm not going to try to stop you," she muttered against his jaw as her lips moved over it on their line from his cheek to his neck. "If someone hurt you, I'd gouge out their eyes. But don't go now. Please."

He pulled her tightly against his chest, and she couldn't tell where his sobs ended and hers began. She only sat in his lap with her arms locked around him and her eyes shut against the outside world.

"Just stay here with me," she whispered. "Please."

She felt Lucius nod.

"I'm sorry." As he spoke, she felt the low vibrations of his voice against her shoulder. "I failed you, Narcissa. I should've—"

"You did no such thing."

" _I should've been here._ I should've been able to stop this."

She forced in a long breath and let it out again. "If I'm not allowed to apologize," she said slowly, "then you aren't allowed to blame yourself. It's only fair, my love."

Lucius was silent for several moments, and then he heaved a sigh. "Just tell me what you need," he said, his tone softening. "Anything."

"All I need is you," she said. "Just stay here. Right now, all I need is to be near you. I love you so much."

"I love you."

She felt him nod once more against her shoulder, and then he lay down, pulling her down beside him, his arms a protective cage around her that she knew would not yield.


	30. Scars

Chapter Thirty- Scars

When Narcissa woke to find herself alone, she sat up so quickly the bedroom spun. She retrieved her wand from beneath her pillow and found herself thankful that she'd forgotten to remove her house robe, as it saved her the trouble of locating it now. She hurried to her feet and into the master bathroom, and when she found it empty, she hurtled down the corridor in search of Lucius.

 _He's just getting breakfast. Talking with Draco. Out in the garden._

She barely felt the stairs beneath her feet. She could only focus on the pounding of her heart in her ears as she descended into the foyer.

 _He's all right. He's all right._

The house felt much colder now than it had since before Lucius had returned. The ceilings felt too tall, the corridors too wide for someone of Narcissa's stature to be dashing through alone to locate him.

A light spilled into the hall from the lounge. Narcissa's breath caught in her throat at the sight, she rushed to the doorway.

 _No._

Lucius lay still on the floor beside the chaise, curled in on himself with his arms braced against an unseen threat. In an instant, she'd flown to his side.

"Luc!"

Narcissa dropped to her knees and gave his shoulders a gentle shake as she leaned close to examine his face. Lucius was, mercifully, still breathing, though his breaths were shallow and rapid. His left cheek was bruised in a trail that led to a black eye. His expression was pained despite his lack of consciousness, his lips pale and pressed into a tight line.

"Draco!" Narcissa screamed, refusing to look away from her husband.

She wondered exactly what the Dark Lord had done to him.

"You're going to be all right. You're going to be all right." She repeated the words until they resembled nothing but a dull roaring in her ears.

It wasn't until she felt Draco's hand on her shoulder that she realized he'd entered the room.

"Mother, what—? What in Merlin's name happened?" Draco demanded. He dropped down to the floor beside his parents and laid his palm against his father's forehead.

"The Dark Lord," Narcissa breathed. She mentally shook herself and spoke again, this time with conviction. "Help me get him up."

Narcissa and Draco each slid under one of Lucius's arms and guided him to the chaise, where they laid him down gently.

"Should we take him to Aunt—?"

"What did he do this time?"

Narcissa refused to turn toward Bellatrix, whose voice had come from the doorway. Instead, she kept her eyes on her son's, which were panicked.

"He did nothing, Bella," she said flatly.

"The Dark Lord rarely acts so harshly without provocation."

At this, something within Narcissa snapped.

She rounded on her sister and closed the distance between them in a few quick strides.

"If you knew even the _half_ of what your Lord has done without provocation," she snarled, "you wouldn't sleep at night."

Bellatrix flinched. For the first time in her life, Narcissa believed she'd overcome her fear of her sister.

"If you'll excuse me," she said curtly.

She turned away from Bellatrix and refocused her attention on Lucius. When she allowed herself to survey his body as well as his face, she realized his shirt was torn and bloody, the rips in the material giving way to cuts lining his chest. She hurriedly unfastened the shirt and surveyed the bruising along his ribs, a wave of nausea rolled through her stomach as she reached out to graze her fingers over the area.

The instant she made contact, Lucius let out a hiss.

"I'm so sorry," Narcissa muttered.

The corner of Lucius's mouth twitched, but he did not open his eyes.

"Is there anything I can do?" asked Draco.

Narcissa blinked and looked toward him. He was watching her closely, his face far paler than usual.

"Help me carry him to the fireplace, please," said Narcissa. "I'm just going to Floo us upstairs. I can't Apparate with the damned charms in place."

"Shouldn't he go to a Healer?" Draco pressed.

"I'm as close as we have, right now." Narcissa sighed heavily. "I've healed him from everything he's ever come home with, and he can't be seen somewhere like St. Mungo's."

"Let me help you, at least, Mum."

"I appreciate that, love. I do. But you don't need to see more of this than you already have."

Draco closed his eyes and let out a long breath before returning his focus to his mother. "What's going on? Since Father got home, I feel like all you've both been doing is keeping things from me. I'm part of this, too. Let me help you."

Narcissa's heart sank. She recognized the sincerity in her son's eyes, and she wished she knew how to allow him to help. Draco had never been trained in healing; he had only been trained in combat, as had his father.

 _The last thing I want to ask him to bear is how hellish life has been here. He's gone through enough without my burdens._

"I will. As soon as I possibly can," she said, "I will find a way to let you help us. For right now, the best thing you can do is get us to the fireplace." Narcissa glanced over her shoulder to find that Bellatrix had gone, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from commenting.

With Draco's assistance, Narcissa guided Lucius to the fireplace. She typically hated using the Manor's two network-connected fireplaces together, but occasionally, she saw no better option.

She paused beside the hearth to kiss her son's cheek.

"I'm very proud of you," she told him.

Draco smiled feebly.

* * *

As Narcissa stepped out of the fireplace, supporting Lucius to the best of her ability, she forced herself to remain upright and refused to falter.

"You weren't supposed to go after him."

With a tight shake of her head, she pulled Lucius toward the bed. When she swayed beneath his weight after the first step, she swore under her breath and pulled out her wand.

" _Mobilicorpus,_ " she muttered.

Lucius rose from the ground, and Narcissa kept her wand as steady as she could while she was trembling. She guided him to the bed, ensuring his head rested on his pillow, and sat beside him, her hands flying to his cheeks.

"Why couldn't you listen to me instead of trying to be noble, just this once?" Her voice cracked, and she lowered her face to rest her forehead against his. No matter how angry she was that he'd put his life in danger for her sake, she couldn't deny the all-consuming feeling of love and protection she felt from the gesture. A choked sob burst from her lungs. "You're mad."

She reached for her wand and began muttering every healing charm she could recall as she took aim at the bruise surrounding his eye, the one lining his cheek, those peeking out from beneath his shirt… With a cry she didn't bother restraining, she ripped away the material. Her tears fell onto his chest, onto the bloody cuts and the palm-sized bruised area she knew had to conceal at least one broken rib.

"You're absolutely mad," she whispered, "and I love you more than life."

She glanced up at his face to find that the bruising had receded somewhat. Inhaling deeply, she reached into her bedside table and sifted through the potion bottles she kept on-hand for emergencies.

"You're going to hate this."

Narcissa removed a small bottle of grey liquid from the back of the drawer and rested her free hand against Lucius's chin, opening his mouth just enough for the potion to enter. She tipped the bottle into his mouth, and an instant later, he let out a ragged cough followed by a pained grunt.

"Try not to cough—darling, your rib—"

Lucius raised a quaking hand and rested it on Narcissa's arm, and the knot within her chest loosened slightly.

"It's going to be all right," she said, more firmly this time. "Why would you do something like that? Why would you attack him?"

"You—know why." Lucius winced, his other hand moving to his abdomen. His words had left as hardly a wisp, and the sound of the pain in his voice pulled tears to Narcissa's eyes.

"I appreciate the sentiment, my love," she said, "but I don't want you to die for me."

"It's the way—I'd prefer."

"Hush, now." Narcissa's words came out a bit more harshly than she had intended, but she had spent long enough fearing for her husband's life, and she couldn't begin to think about the possibility of losing him again. She leaned down and kissed his cheek softly as his thumb lightly traced her arm. "You're not going anywhere."


End file.
